His Grace, His Tainted Grace
by I've Been Soniced
Summary: AU: Spirituals were people who are born either Demonic, Angelic, or Hybrids of the two. Demons could do black magic and had ephemeral horns and tails. Angels could do white magic and had ephemeral wings and halos. Spirituals were born into a caste system that was determined by the pieces of armor they could summon and the place they were set. Better description inside.Slash.
1. Chapter 1

It was the day before Christmas, All Souls Day, as they called it, the day that all spirituals: Demons, Angels, and Hybrids, get together in all their glory and celebrate. Spirituals were people who are born either Demonic, Angelic, or Hybrids of the two. Demons could do black magic and had ephemeral horns and tails. Angels could do white magic and had ephemeral wings and halos. Hybrids could be born with any mix of the two. Usually these aspects showed, manifested physically, unexpectedly and sometimes painfully.

These people were distinguished from normal people by one aspect, their armor. Spirituals were born into a caste system that was determined by the pieces of armor they could summon and the place they were set, usually their armor came in around puberty, the latest the armor could come in is by their sixteenth birthday. A person with a gauntlet was lower in rank than a person with a chest plate, the smaller the pieces the lower in the rank. The highest ranked were people who had full sets of armor, along with a weapon. Demonic armor was usually heavier than angelic armor but that was the only difference between them, the design and look depended on the person's personality.

Demons weren't evil, though normal people believed them to be, and Angels weren't saintly, like people believed them to be. But Demonics were usually the most successful business men and politicians, they were sly and beautiful and full of unfound confidence, they were basically dicks, assholes, it was culturally and social expected of them. Angelics were the opposite of that, they were expected to act self sacrificing and saintly, were usually doctors and therapist, anything were they could help people, Demonics usually only helped themselves. Hybrids were given the most freedom, they were allowed to do whatever they wanted. Within the spiritual community Hybrids were the most celebrated, were a symbol of the unity and the power between the Angelics and Demonics.

Jackson sat on a bench in the park, the Souls day celebration was going on around him. Everyone from town was there, playing carnival games and eating carnival food, fried candy bars and ice cream, funnel cake, and roasted legs of turkey. The Whittemore's were one of the highest ranked Demonics in town, only rivaled by the Hales, though after the fire there wasn't much left of them. The carnival was being sponsored by Jackson's parents and the Argents, the most respected humans of the town, since there weren't very many angelics who could afford sponsoring. Everyone he knew was there, off during winter break, their last year, senior year. They were just like Jackson except for one difference.

Scott was with his friends showing off his new armor set, his whole right arm and short sword, Derek Hale had adopted him into his family and so Scott was now a Demonic. Stiles was impressed and happy, he could finally talk to Scott about things he never could before, Stiles was a Hybrid, angelic mother and demonic father. Allison was also impressed and happy for Scott, she knew this would be good for him. Danny was with them, he was an angelic and like Scott his whole left arm was covered in armor, they clashed their gauntlets together in celebration, demonic steel crashed against heavenly adamantine and released a harmonic clang.

Jackson sat on a bench and tried to ignore the group of demonics walking his way.

"Hey Jackson," said one of them as the rest circled around him, trying to cut him off, intimidate, "what are you doing here all alone. What, are you jealous that stupid little Scott is better than you, that he got what you never did." The group laughed and Jackson clenched his fist and fought hard against his anger. "God, your parents must feel so disappointed, adopted you and everything and what did they get, _a dud_." Jackson was faster, and stronger, and smarter than all of them. He punched, jabbed, and hit every person in the group until they were sprawled on the floor unconscious. The biggest mistake a spiritual could make is to believe that could easily beat a normal person, yes they had advantages, but if they didn't know how to use them they would never stand a chance against anyone.

Jackson walked away from the large crowd and tried to find somewhere where he could just be left alone with his thoughts. He tried hard not to think of how badly disappointed his parents must be in him. When he reached puberty and didn't get his armor, his parents just assumed he was a late bloomer. But his sixteenth birthday came and went and nothing happened. Now he was eighteen and brutally human, Jackson hated it and himself because of it. He sighed, and tried to control the burning in his eyes. He walked into the woods and away from the revelry.

He always loved the woods, the wet mossy smell of it. He loved how green it became in the spring, its fecund beauty, the way flowers grew out of the ground and created a colorful carpet on the forest floor. He loved it in the winter when it was dead and desolate, it reminded him of himself, the way he would sometimes feel, inside. He found a nice large tree and sat on its roots, leaned back against it and waited for the night to end.

He closed his eyes and thought maybe he could sleep, for an hour or two, until the celebration ended. He set the alarm on his cell phone and closed his eyes. He heard a twig snap in front of him and opened his eyes. He couldn't really see anything, it was dark and a little foggy, but still, he could hear a rustling in the underbrush. He lay still and hoped it was just a deer or some other animal.

The moon's crescent face hung high over the trees and cast a light glow upon the ground, just enough to see by. Derek Hale didn't need it, he was a full demonic, his eyes penetrated the darkness. His armor hung heavily on his frame and made moving hard and annoying. He hated these days, days when Spirituals armor came out whether they wanted it to or not. Most of the time Spirituals kept the armor hidden away, on a different planes of existence, and when they needed it, all they had to do was summon it, think of it, and it would appear on their body.

Derek's short pointy horns itched, they weren't even real, not physically, but they were there, like the touch of a ghost. His large tail was wrapped around his own leg and appeared right on the outside of his jeans, because it wasn't real he didn't have wear his specialty jeans, the ones with the tail holes. Derek rarely manifested his real horns and tail, it hurt like a bitch and only real show offs did it. The Whittemore's wouldn't be caught dead doing it, they found it low class, Derek reluctantly had to agree, it was something only lesser demonics did to intimidate and show of to regular people.

Derek had wanted to talk to Scott, to keep him from embarrassing himself and the Hale name. Scott still didn't understand that being adopted into his family meant that everything he did reflected back on Derek and he wouldn't allow Scott to do something to make his family look like idiots. He had adopted Scott because Derek couldn't stand the thought of his families name dying with him and so he would do what he had to, even if it meant adopting…less than adequate members into his family. But Scott was good, he just needed some training and Derek knew he would be a person worthy of having the Hale name. Scott's mother was also happy to know that her son had someone else he could rely on and a name with some weight to it.

Derek stood with Scott and watched him interact with his friends, they were young and happy to finally be out of school, they talked about what they wanted to do for the rest of their break, what presents they wanted for Christmas. As they talked Derek noticed the group of demonics as they made their way to the towns golden boy. He was just sitting on a bench, a far off look on his face, passive, until the other boys surrounded him. Ever since Jackson had passed his age to turn and remained very normal, all the other spirituals thought it was time Jackson got a taste of his own medicine. The boy walked around as if he were a full demonic, he had the name behind him to do so, but now that he wasn't, he became target number one for all the demonics he had tortured when he was younger. A huge mistake, a person didn't walk around as confident as Jackson did without a way of proving it to other people, and Jackson had more reason to prove it than the rest of them. These boys must have forgotten.

Everyone noticed when Jackson knocked out the group of boys, but no one did anything, how could they, he was a Whittemore, Jackson just walked away. For some reason, Derek followed. From where he stood he could hear the low rhythmic breathing of the boy…man. Jackson slept beneath the tree, and an hour later his phone sounded, it was a call, his mother wanted to introduce him to one of his father's friend's daughters, Jackson hated that shit, but he agreed. He dusted himself off and set off back to the town square.

The next day, Christmas, meant another party, this time his parents had invited all the higher demonics to their house to eat dinner with them, she even invited Derek Hale, and if Derek was coming so would Scott and Scott would bring all his stupid little friends. Jackson tried hard not to be too annoyed about the dinner, he oddly just wanted to spend some time alone with his parents, they thought he was too old to still want that, but he wasn't.

This last year in high school all off his friends jumped ship and became Scott's friends, even Danny, the one person he'd counted on his whole life. He didn't care, but he wouldn't pretend like them, like Jackson had driven them away somehow, no, they abandoned him, just like everyone else did. They still sat with him, but they talked to Scott, Danny and him still hung out, but only when Scott couldn't, and Jackson wouldn't be anybody's plan B. So Jackson learned to entertain himself, and surprisingly, found some friends outside of school, found a job coaching children during an after school program, he taught them baseball, soccer, and of course, lacrosse.

Jackson ate his breakfast and then went for a run through the woods. He followed his old path, the most scenic one, and enjoyed the peace and quite. Running through his lonely woods was amazing, he never liked running through the busy and noisy streets of the town. He didn't like the smell of the gutters or the fumes that came out of the cars, no, none of it compared to the cold beautiful woods of his home. Jackson wondered what he would do when his last year at high school ended. He really didn't have any plans, but maybe he would go somewhere far away and start over, remake himself into something he liked. He was himself and people didn't like him for it, maybe he would find a place where he wouldn't have to change, were people accepted him for who he was. Jackson knew all that was just childish dreaming, no such place existed.

He returned home, showered, and changed, he did some homework and passed the time chatting to some of his new friends on the internet. They were good friends, true friends, and Jackson really liked them even though at times he felt like a stranger when he was with them, but that feeling always passed quickly. When evening approached he put on some nice dress clothes, slacks, button up, and a blazer. He didn't want to do this, but he took a deep breath and practiced his smile in the mirror, it was perfect.

The dinner was going well, Jackson was busy talking to one of his fathers business friends, they were talking about the state of the Japanese Yin, it was boring but Jackson had eighteen years of practice faking this stuff. When he finished with one person he moved on to another one of his father's friends, he was a university professor at UCLA and taught anthropology, Jackson was actually super interested in this and they had a nice long discussion on the cultural and societal changes the spirituals had gone through since the old ages. His father's personal assistant, what's her name, Jennifer, was a twenty six year old psychic, a Hybrid, great for industrial espionage, and she was giving Jackson the sex eyes, he ignored her and instead shoved an appetizer in his mouth. His mother called them all to the table and they all sat in their assigned seats. By some miracle, his mother sat him next to his father, at the head of the table, the professor sat next to him. Derek sat across from him and Scott, who brought Stiles and Allison, next to Derek.

Jackson ate and let the noise of the people around him drown out his thoughts. The food was catered by some place Jackson didn't know, but the mash potatoes were delicious and the lamb, a surprising choice, was moist and amazingly spiced. He sipped a nice dry wine and enjoyed the warmth that spread through his chest.

"So Jackson what do you do after school," asked Derek looking right at him. Jackson was busy eating and his father had to kick him underneath the table to get his attention.

"Oh—well I'm coaching a group of kids down at the elementary school,"

"That's so cute! But, why are you doing that, wouldn't you rather hang out with your friends," asked his father personal assistant, slutty Jennifer,

"Well, I guess…there just aren't that many people lining up to hang with me," said Jackson. No one knew what else to say and soon his father changed the subject. Derek stared at Jackson, but Jackson didn't notice. He ate something off his plate, a weird paste next to his salad, he assumed the dressing. It was spicy, too spicy, it burned his entire mouth and the top of his esophagus. He coughed and covered his mouth with his hand. He took a sip of wine and felt the spice course down his throat, burning all the way down to his stomach and felt that catch fire. He abruptly stood up and bumped hard into the table, shaking it down its whole length.

"Jackson honey, are you okay," called his mom from the other end of the table. Jackson turned away coughing and walked into the kitchen for a glass of water. The dining room led into the kitchen and were only separated by a small open bar. The guests could see Jackson pour himself some water from the sink. Jackson took long gulps but felt them go down the wrong tube towards his lungs, he choked and let out a wet cough spewing most of the water out of his mouth. He chocked and felt the burn in his stomach spread through his body until he couldn't even choke, felt the burn blaze and rise from his insides out to his flesh. Jackson dropped the cup and grabbed at his throat, he couldn't breath.

The guests stood up and started to walk towards Jackson, Derek stopped them. When Jackson turned towards them they could see a bright light emanating from his eye sockets, lowly out of his mouth, and even his nostrils. They watched that light grow and brighten until Jackson looked like some obscene jack-o-lantern. The light grew until it radiated off of Jackson's body illuminating the room like a small star, then the noise started. A high pitched noise seemed to emanate from Jackson, it wasn't a voice, or a sound the human vocal cords could make, it was something powerful and stunning. The guests had to cover their ears and turn their eyes away, they were driven to their knees as the light and the sound drove them to horrifying pain, their skin burned as if burnt by a blow torch, Scott's ears bled.

Jackson felt his skin catch fire until there was nothing left, he felt his soul rip out his body and fly away from him, off the planet, past his galaxy, through his universe, plunged deep into the blackness of space until he was surrounded by light. He heard the sound of his voice as he felt it, the feeling, the amazing feeling that made him cry, he felt as the light surrounded him and reminded him that he wasn't alone, would never be alone, he was loved, Jackson was loved, and he rejoiced, he sang with his voice so that all could hear him. He felt his soul surge inside his body until it all pulled back to his mortal coil.

When it ended the guest, stood up slowly, and looked at Jackson. He stood there in the kitchen, as if nothing had happened. He turned toward them and the guests could see that same glow in his eye sockets, just not as powerful. His body was covered in a rich set of silver adamantine armor. He shone from his head to his toes, his chest plate was embossed with the pattern of a wolf, in its mouth, the crescent moon, underneath that, a set of exquisite ring mail. Around his belt he wore a long sword, the hilt was wrapped in rich black leather, the blade stretched long and deadly. Over his shoulder flowed a deep black cloaked hood, it covered his body entirely in the richest black anyone had seen, like the night, like inky space. His helmet came forward around his mouth to a sharp point, his visor was up and the strange glow could be seen from within. On top of his head floated a crown, incredible in its simplicity, it was made of light. Behind him stretched a pair of large black wings, they too were made of pure darkness, intangible. The guest were stunned, no one knew what had happened. Derek was amazed by the sublime beauty of it all.

It all disappeared, blinked out of existence, and all that was left was normal Jackson, who fell to the ground and convulsed violently, he was having a seizure.

Jackson groggily opened his eyes, he couldn't see anything, his eyes were too moist and refracted the light, made everything appear strangely distorted. He closed them and rested. Not much later he awoke when he felt something brush his forehead, he opened his eyes and saw a young attractive girl, bright red hair and black eyes. She was wiping the sweat off his brow with a cool cloth, which actually felt pretty amazing. She was dressed in a long blacks smock, above her head floated a small halo in the shape of a laurel wreath. She was dressed like a nun.

The next time Jackson awoke it was the middle of the night. He was hot, too hot, it felt like he was burning from the inside out, felt the heat leak out of his eyes, his mouth, everywhere. Again, light began to grow inside of Jackson, began to spill out of his body illuminating the hospital room. He felt that same amazing presence, felt loved, felt whole, and in the back of his mind, in the dark place where he could still think, that was just him, he felt like he didn't deserve it. Doctors rushed into his room and in a mix of black and white magic, were able to calm Jackson's grace fever, a disease which only affects angelics, causes their internal grace to burn bright and often ended with the death of the angel when he was turned into dust by the power of his own grace gone wild.

For two days Jackson's life balanced on the verge between life and death. On the third day Jackson awoke feeling…okay. He ached all over and his skin felt as if it had been scolded with hot water, but other than that he felt okay. He spent most of the day alone in his hospital bed watching bad day time television, no one visited. Later that evening his doctors walked into his room, a team of an angelic and demonic, they specialized in treating spiritual only illnesses. They asked him all the normal questions, how he felt, what he remembered, if he had a history of allergies, they sat in chairs next to his bed and just stared at Jackson for awhile.

"So, do you know what happened?" asked the demonic doctor, his large stag like horns protruded from the top of his head, they were see through, ghostly. The angelic doctor sat next to him, over his head floated a thin band of pure light, a traditional halo.

"Ugh…not…exactly," Jackson had no idea why he was in the hospital. "I think I had a fever or something…" The doctors looked at each other and then at their notes, shuffled them around before getting back to Jackson.

"Well Jackson it seems as if…well I don't know how to say this but apparently you violently came into your spiritual being, you're an angelic," said the doctor and handed Jackson a mirror. Jackson looked at himself in the mirror, noticed how pink and dry his skin looked, and pulled the mirror back until he could see the top of his head, over it floated a crown made of light, it was a fucking halo, Jackson had a fucking halo. His eyes went wide, he looked at the doctors and they smiled back at him.

"I don't—wha—what does this mean, I am eighteen. How is this possible?" Jackson had wanted this so bad when he was sixteen, he'd tried getting over it the past two years. Now he was freaking the fuck out, what did it mean?

"Well, we've been running some diagnostic spells to see what could have caused it, what we found…well…it isn't something we're used to seeing," said the demonic.

"What is it?"

"Well," started the angelic, "it seems that at a very young age, we're assuming the day of your birth…well it seems someone put a binding spell over your spiritual being, suppressed it with a spell that we are assuming was meant to last…your lifetime."

"Are you saying that…someone put a spell on me to prevent me from getting my armor, my magic…that's…why?" Jackson was stunned, he didn't know why anyone would do that, why would someone do that to him, it was so unbelievably cruel.

"We don't know all we know is that your angelic grace had been building ever since you hit puberty and three days ago it became powerful enough to burn through the spell that was meant to suppress it. It…it nearly killed you, but you've made it through," finished the demonic.

They finished doing their check up and ran a few more diagnostic spells on him, everything came out fine, he was healthy. His parents didn't visit, no one did, and Jackson pretended not to be hurt by it. He wondered if his parents were mad at him, would they accept an angelic in their family, Jackson didn't know. He knew there were groups of demonics who hated angelics like nothing else, who would disown anyone in their family that turned out that way.

Night rolled in and Jackson wasn't sleepy, he tried sleeping but couldn't, he could feel the people in the hospital around him, sense them, their presence, could feel their suffering and it completely and utterly freaked him out. Every time he closed his eyes he could hear their thoughts, felt them invade his brain, could feel them taking over his mind, he would become them, their memories flooded his mind, until Jackson pushed them out hard, trying to desperately cling to his own being. Jackson tried to ignore the heavy feel of his wings on his back, the way the feathers sounded as they moved about, their light rustle, they were sensitive, really sensitive. It all added up and made it nearly impossible for Jackson to just relax and sleep. Finally around three am he couldn't take it, he pressed the call nurse button and waited. To his surprise Ms. McCall entered his room.

"Ugh…I'm having trouble sleeping and I was wondering if, I don't know…you could give me something to help…"

"Let me check your chart…Your one of Scott's friends right,"

"Uh yeah,"

"That's nice, well your doctors actually prescribed something just in case, give me a minute and I'll go get it." She returned not much later with a tiny pill and handed it to Jackson who swallowed it down with some water. The pill helped dull all the new sensations enough that he could actually close his eyes and sleep.

The next day the doctors gave him the all clear and he was allowed to go home. His parents actually showed up to take him home and were glad that he was okay, though Jackson doubted it since they couldn't take time out of their busy lives to at least visit him. The drive home was quite. Jackson would sometimes catch his parents staring at his halo in the rearview mirror, since his dark wings seemed to disappear when they weren't directly in the light. Jackson shrunk in his seat, even his own parents didn't know what to do with him. He wondered if his parents had felt this way the first day they'd adopted him, had they driven home with baby Jackson in the car seat bundled in blankets, had they stared at him in the rearview mirror as they did now, did they wonder what they got themselves into, had they known what to do. Jackson closed his eyes and tried to calm his nerves.

When he got home his parents said they were going to bed, told him to remember that he only had two weeks left of his vacation and to finish any homework he had left. His parents climbed the stairs to the second floor master bedroom and stopped half way up. His mother turned and ran down the stairs and hugged Jackson hard. He hadn't expected it and let his arms hang at his side. But he got his sense back and hugged his mother in return. His father followed, he looked at his son and squeezed his shoulder with a hand, looked him in the eyes with such pride, they then went to bed. Jackson felt better, a lot better and he didn't feel bad about the tears that escaped his eyes.

The next week Jackson mostly stayed in his house, he couldn't believe he had finally got what he wanted, he was finally a spiritual, but he was the wrong kind, he was supposed to be a demonic, he was supposed to make his parents proud, instead he came out angelic, he was weirdly embarrassed about it. He didn't want people to see him like this, unable to hide his halo and wings, it was just so embarrassing. But the second week he couldn't stand being stuck home doing nothing, he had finished all his homework the first two days and he could only chat with his work friends for so long before it became too boring. On the third day, of his last week of vacation, he decided that he would go on a run. He dressed and laced his shoes and set off into the woods.

The run was amazing and inspiring, seeing the woods as a spiritual made Jackson feel as if he had never opened his eyes before. He could see that everything was alive, everything had a soul and it breath and pulsed with the rhythm of his running, breathing. The feeling of the wind as it swept through his feathers made his entire body tingle with incredible pleasure. He ran and leaped over hills and puddles and as he ran faster and faster he felt his wings extend behind him. He wasn't trying or expecting it, but one second he was running the next he was floating over the ground. It was exhilarating, it was primal, it was the most enjoyable thing he had ever done in his life. He landed and laughed, full of pure joy. He got up and ran fast and hard trying to do it again, which he did, over and over. He ran deeper into the woods than he ever had before, too happy to notice. He rounded a bend, giant smile on his face, until he crashed hard into something.

Jackson was knocked senseless for a few seconds until he felt whatever was underneath him stir. He pushed off the ground until he was sitting, above him rose Derek Hale, angry scowl on his face. Jackson laughed, he couldn't help it, he was still blissed out on flying, and Derek looked hilarious with a scowl on his face and dead leaves sticking out of his hair. He wasn't really angry though, he was too busy staring at Jackson, who suddenly remembered his halo and wings were visible, and then he was embarrassed. He blushed.

Derek held his hand out to Jackson, who took it and stood. He slapped all the dead leaves off himself and crossed his arms across his chest. Derek gave him the elevator look, from head to toe and back up again, Jackson squeezed his arms harder around his chest, he felt as his wings settled over his shoulders and around his body blocking Derek's view of himself, a completely involuntary reaction which just embarrassed Jackson even more.

"I'm glad your okay, you really scared us last week, no one knew if your were okay…your parents didn't tell anyone…I guess now we know what happened." Derek reached his hand out to touch Jackson's halo, but Jackson flinched away from him and Derek was embarrassed by his own involuntary reaction. He apologized, Jackson said it was okay, he stood there one more second before just turning and running away. 'That was fucking awkward', thought Jackson.

The last few days left of his vacation was spent teaching himself to fly. It was almost instinctual, the way he learned to turn his wings slightly inward, learned to catch the wind underneath them. He jumped off his roof and drifted slowly downward to the ground. He stood still and pushed down hard with his wings, he blasted gusts of wind downward, he did this over and over, but felt that there was something he was doing wrong. He closed his eyes and focused on his wings, felt the light breeze tickle his feathers, he thought of flying upwards, felt that small presence within in himself, the light, and he flapped downwards. When he opened his eyes he was high above his house, he could see the whole forest around it, and then he plummeted. He tried not to panic, he out stretched his wings like he knew, it was hard, the wind made it nearly impossible, but he did it and then he was floating as he feel lightly to the ground. He could feel the wind on his wings, could feel the differences in air pressure, the updrafts. Whenever he caught one he would allow the wind to curl underneath his wings and push him upwards. He flew high up into the clouds, floated among the moist air droplets that hung high in the atmosphere. He saw the sun in all its glory, free from all the smog and dust, high up in the sky. It was cold, but glorious in a way Jackson had never imagined.

He pointed himself downwards and floated slowly to the ground. As he circled down towards his house, he could see his parents standing in the backyard, glasses of wine in their hands. Some one was standing with them but Jackson couldn't tell who. He landed in front of his parents with a loud snap of his wings scaring the group of three. Jackson had the biggest grin on his face as he walked past his parents and Chris Argent, and into the kitchen. He made himself a sandwich and took the stairs two at a time to his room.

Later that night Jackson stood naked in front of his full length mirror and appraised himself, he flexed his muscles and twisted his body around to get different views. His bottomless black wings made his creamy flesh look even paler in contrast, it almost seemed to glow. Above his head hung his crown, his halo, it glowed a whitish blue, and seemed to accentuate his bright blue eyes. Jackson had to admit it, he looked good, better than good, he looked incredible. He lifted his wings and stretched them out as far as they would go. They were long, longer than he had thought, they seemed to be twice his body length. He bent them high, and then around himself. It was strange, they were see through, sort of, the blackness made them almost impenetrable, when light hit them they became even darker. In his dark room he could barely see them.

Jackson was excited to go to school, he couldn't wait, he wasn't embarrassed anymore, not when he looked as good as he did. No, he would finally show everyone he was better than them, he was a full angelic, the only one in town and none of them would see him coming.


	2. Chapter 2

The next day Jackson realized he was wrong, he _was_ embarrassed, his cockiness from the night before completely evaporated the closer they drove to school. He was far behind all other spirituals, they had two years of practice, they knew how to act, how to do things, control themselves, and Jackson had no clue how to do any of it. Jackson focused on his halo and wings and wished and hoped them out of existence, but they stayed in place. His parents had decided to drive Jackson to school for reasons that Jackson didn't understand and he just wished he could hide his stupid halo and fucking wings. He focused on his body, then his inner light, and pulled it all inward, into himself. It worked, he felt it work, it kind of hurt, a lot, but when he looked at his reflection his halo was gone, his wings too, just in time for his parents to pull their car up to the front of the school. Now Jackson was just embarrassed to have his parents with him

He waited in front of the principal's office in a chair usually reserved for students stupid enough to get sent to the principal's office, his knee bumped up and down and was the only hint that he was nervous. He could hear the low murmur of voices behind the closed door and wondered what they were talking about. Finally the principal, Allison's grandfather, let Jackson into the office, who took a seat next to his parents.

"Well Jackson we have kind of a unique situation...Your parents explained to me what happened to you over vacation and we've decided to put you into 2nd Level Angelics class. We thought it best to put you in class with students your own age and then have someone tutor you outside of school. The only thing you might have problem with is situating yourself in one of our current classes. But, other than that you should have no issues catching up with other angelics your age," Principal Argent handed him a transfer slip and told him to be in class after school.

Jackson had heard of these classes, normal people weren't told what was taught in them, they were secrets kept within the spiritual community. His parents still attended there own classes once a week, all spirituals did, until they died. The first few level classes taught spiritual etiquette, magic lessons, biology, basically everything a spiritual needed to know to get along in life. The later life classes acted as a support groups and a place spirituals could go and just be themselves, these classes were usually a mix of angelics and demonics with a few hybrids thrown in.

Jackson spent the rest of the day nervously waiting for school to end and his new class to start. He was excited to finally learn all the things that were once kept secret from him, but on the other hand he was scared of making a fool of himself in front of people he knew were more skilled and better trained than him. Luckily for Jackson no one in school heard about what happened to him over vacation which either meant that it was old news or Scott and Stiles had actually kept it secret, which was weird, he knew Scott barely tolerated his presence, just like he barely tolerated his, and he couldn't understand why they would keep it secret. Regardless, he spent the rest of school focusing on his work and focusing on keeping his wings and halo hidden. He never realized how much work it was, he always assumed that it was easy. It wasn't, if he lost focus for even a second he could feel them slip into his reality, luckily for him it hurt like a hard stab in his chest every time that started to happen and he would just push them back.

Finally, the last bell rang and Jackson put all his school books in his locker and walked towards his new class. It was in one of their bigger classrooms normal reserved for standardized testing. He was late, apparently everyone was already there, why wouldn't they be, he was sure they were all friends already and Jackson would be the one left out, again. He opened the door and conversations stopped as all eyes turned to him. He squared his shoulder and walked into the class shoving several people out of his way before he found a seat near the back. Conversations continued and Jackson was left in relative peace. Unfortunately for him Stiles was also in this class, sitting next to him, as a hybrid he would be, he had to attend both classes since doctors never knew what traits they were going to develop. Jackson ignored him and waited for the teacher to arrive.

She walked through the door and all the students took their seats, Jackson walked up to the teacher and took in her red hair and laurel wreath halo before he recognized her.

"Oh," he said, she was the nun, the one he thought he had dreamt up in his sick fevered mind. She smiled at him and took his transfer slip. He just stood there and tried to ignore the weird looks the other students were giving him.

"Well my name is Sister Catherine, class as you can see we have a new student, why don't you introduce yourself," she said with a strange twinkle in her eyes, a look that Jackson was all too familiar with, he often sported it himself, it was the look of someone who thought they were better than you, the bitch.

"My names Jackson," is all he said before he turned and walked back to his seat, he had no intentions of being friends with these, these…_altruists_. It wasn't how he was raised.

"Well…why don't we all help Jackson relax by releasing our hidden wings and halos," instructed the teacher and soon all the students did so. Jackson was surprised to see how generic they all looked. They all had white wings, every last one of them, and their halos were just amorphous blobs of light. Except for Stiles, his halo was a ring made of multilayered flat pieces and it glowed neon bright and constantly changed color. It was what Jackson imagined an actually disco stick looked like, it was kind of cool. Stiles' wings were a rich dark brown, like a pigeons, or a hawk, as Stiles would say.

"Come on Jackson, we all did it to make you more comfortable, don't you think you should show us the same consideration," said Catherine, the evil nun, with that glint in her eye.

Jackson wasn't going to be nice to them, but he wasn't going to be a straight out asshole either. He was also ready to show of his amazing new appendages to all these common people, so he allowed his halo to show, unfurled his large black wings. Next to him Stiles snorted, Jackson would ignore that for now.

"Very well," said Catherine and started the days lesson, apparently they were learning about all the societal expectations they were expected to fulfill. To Jackson the lesson was brutally boring and the worst thing he had ever experienced in his life. None of it made sense to him, he couldn't believe people actually expected him to do any of that.

"So class lets say a homeless person were to walk up to you and ask for your help, what would you do?" Jackson groaned as the hands of the other students shot up. They all gave asinine answers like give him money, give him food, a place to live. Jackson could not believe this was something they honestly thought he was going to care about. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Stiles staring at him, when he turned Stiles looked away and pretended to read something on the wall, 'real smooth' thought Jackson.

"Jackson,' started the nun, "what would you do?"

"I, well, I would tell him to get a damn job!" Stunned silence filled the class room and Jackson took a moment to soak it up. Even Catherine the nun had been thrown off for a second before she continued her lesson, she didn't ask Jackson anymore questions that day. Before class ended she informed the students that the month, January, was Spiritual History Month and as a way to give support to all other people like themselves they were to leave their halos and wings out for the rest of the month. After class ended Catherine asked Jackson and Stiles to stay for a bit. She thought that because they were already acquainted that Stiles would make the perfect tutor for Jackson. They both reluctantly agreed.

Outside in the halls all the other spiritual classes were also letting out. Jackson and Stiles walked through the halls together.

"So…Monday we do society and culture, Tuesday is magic lessons, Wednesday's biology, Thursday's a free elective, uh, you have to choose something you like to do and do it," Jackson raised an eyebrow, "yeah I know its stupid, but for some reason everybody does it, even the demons, I don't get it either but its kind of cool, I just bring my DS. Anyways, Fridays Angelic Etiquette, that's were you learn how to act in front of other angles, that's probably the most important one and the one we should probably catch you up on first…so what do you think?..."

Jackson nodded and walked past a group of demonics who looked completely stunned when they saw Jackson, Stiles looked like he was going to stay to talk to them but followed Jackson instead.

"Are you angry at me or something…I'm sorry I snorted in class…I know you heard, it's just, I don't…its funny that the king of the school has a crown now…Jackson…Jackson…I'm sorry, don't…don't be pissed,"

"I'm not angry!" yelled Jackson causing most of the crowd around them to flinch. He sighed, he wasn't angry, but that entire class had been annoying, he knew he wasn't going to do any of what that stupid nun was trying to teach them and hated knowing that the rest of his life would be spent learning fucking lessons like that, and adding Stiles' special brand of irritating was not helping.

"Okay Angelic etiquette rule number one, any time an angel is holding his wings the way you are, high up like that, and spread out, it means their about to kill you, so yes Jackson I know you're angry." Stiles knew what he was talking about, he'd read about it. Jackson laughed though, hard, he had to stop and grab one of the lockers to keep himself from falling over. Stiles slowly blushed and wondered what was wrong with Jackson.

"Their too long," wheezed Jackson,

"What,"

"My wings, if I fold them the way you do they drag on the nasty ass floor and I can feel it and its super annoying. I have to hold them this way," Stiles looked down and watched as Jackson lowered and raised his wings, sure enough, when he lowered them they went through the ground, and when he raised them and bent them a little they floated right above it. Stiles felt like an idiot and continued walking.

In front of them Scott and Danny were waiting for Stiles. They were making plans to visit the gay club again since Danny hadn't been in a while and was tired of hanging out with Scott and Allison, they always left him and Stiles alone together and that was always awkward.

"Hey guys," greeted Stiles, "What are you talking about,"

"Danny wants to go clubbing again, Saturday,"

"Cool, we inviting Jackson," asked Stiles.

"He never liked going with me," said Danny. That wasn't really the truth, the truth was that Jackson took all attention away from Danny, he got all the numbers, all the free drinks, and Danny hated it. He also didn't want to admit that he would rather go with Scott, he was a lot more relaxed and easy going and Jackson could be serious and moody, though Danny had always been able to bring out his fun side. Stiles frowned though, deep, and Danny felt a flash of guilt, he knew he had been pushing Jackson away, he just didn't know others had noticed, and briefly wondered if Jackson had noticed, and Danny felt like shit. "Yeah we should invite him…"

"Cool, he was just here…" Stiles turned around but couldn't find Jackson, he'd left before Stiles even reached the other boys.

Tuesday Jackson practiced magic with Stiles. Catherine the evil nun told them that there wasn't one way to teach magic since every person had a different way of doing it, different techniques and styles they used and the classes were meant to help them find their own rather than teach them one specific style. Since Jackson was so far behind Catherine thought it was best he just watched, which just fucking sucked. But the entire class was about giving blessings, giving someone good luck and protection, and a whole lot of stupid shit Jackson wasn't going to even bother learning, he wanted to learn something useful.

He spent the class trying to find out how to access his own well of magic. He knew it had to do with the thing inside him, the light. He closed his eyes and focused on the feeling, he poked and prodded it, he pulled at it and pushed it but nothing seemed to happen. He let his senses loose and allowed them to float around him, he could feel the other students minds but kept away, he could feel, even see, the light inside the other students, but nothing ever came of it. He thought that maybe what he was missing was a spell to focus on, so he opened his school magic book and found an easy spell he could do, it was on summoning light. The spells were vague though, because everyone had a different style it didn't really have much information. Most families kept magic books that were passed down from father to son and mother to daughter. Jackson would have to ask his parents for theirs…He thought of light, the sun, a candle, he thought of his own inner light and then wondered where he would put it. He thought of light in his hand, a glob of it sealed away inside his fist, and pulled his magic to it. Jackson felt it then, felt his grace filter out of him and into his hand, felt the hole inside him fill in instantly and then in his fist he summoned light. It burnt bright and radiant and blinded everyone in class. Sister Catherine gave him a look, lifted one eyebrow, and Jackson smiled.

Wednesday, Biology, they went over the different parts of a manifested wing, but the lesson was straight out of a text book and Jackson knew all he had to do was read the damn book to get the information he wanted. He spent the class with his head in the book reading the first chapter, Manifestation. Apparently, the first time an angelic manifested its wings could be considered the worst day of their lives since the process is the most painful one amongst spirituals. The wings don't grow out of them small and then grow like the horns on a demonic, they split out of the angelics back whole, literally ripped through the flesh. There was no way of knowing when an angelics wings were going to come in, making it one of the most dangerous manifestations, it often led to the death of thirty percent of all angelics. Jackson shuddered and wondered when his would manifest and whether he would survive it.

He spent the rest of the class learning about Angelic mating rituals while the teacher went over the different bones in a wing. Apparently when two angels got their freak on, it involved everything normal sex did but with wing and halo freakiness. An angel would present his desired partner with the halo over their head, as a symbol of love and fidelity, the book wanted to emphasis one point, Angelics mated for life, at least once halos were exchanged. They would then manifest their wings and interlock feathers while they did their thing. The book didn't talk about angelic and demonic sex but Jackson knew it happened, Stiles was sitting right there. The book also gave very precise description on certain parts of the wing that were apparently an angelics g-spot and how to properly stimulate them, Jackson found the whole thing a bit disturbing and hilarious.

Thursday Jackson walked around the school looking for a club to join. There were a surprising amount of interesting ones, different language lessons, art classes, sports teams, and Jackson was a little overwhelmed, until he saw it out on the field. Finstock was teaching sword play for any spiritual lucky enough to have one, a sword. The class was small and the students didn't seem that great but Jackson knew he wanted to take that. Unfortunately for Jackson so did Scott, Danny had asked him to join and they were both partnered together. Jackson walked up to Coach Finstock and asked to join, Finstock more than happily agreed, "Finally, someone worth training," he said before asking all the students to summon their weapons.

Danny Stared at Jackson, he'd heard, Scott had told him, but he hadn't believed him, but there was Jackson with a fucking crown floating over his head and those huge black wings, an angelic like him, and again Danny felt second rate next to his once friend. His own wings were white, like everyone else's, but his halo was a ring of floating roses, he was proud of it and their natural beauty, but they somehow felt paltry when compared to Jackson shinning crown. They all summoned their short swords and Jackson summoned his long sword, it was almost his entire body length, he carried it like a short sword. Finstock had the group of old students run through their old drills like he did every Thursday and asked Danny to teach Scott. He had to give Jackson different ones though since he had a different type of sword and the other students watched as Jackson twisted and turned his sword like it weighed nothing, their short swords were heavy and it took them two years of practice to get as good as they were, Jackson, like usual, was out shinning them all with his natural talent. Of course Jackson would never tell them that he had technically been practicing with his sword since he learned to summon it, the same day he'd learned to fly, and that it weighed so much his arms trembled and ached.

Finstock focused on teaching Jackson all the basics, which he picked up faster than anyone thought he could. When Jackson loved something, he would learn to do it to the best of his ability, and Jackson loved the feel of the leather hilt in his hand, and he loved the heavy heft of the sword and the way it made his arms tremble like cooked noodles and burn like they were on fire, and more than anything he loved the thought of being able to sink the sharp blade of his sword into anyone stupid enough to fuck with him. After class ended Danny tried to talk to Jackson but couldn't find him and wondered if he let his own jealousy and insecurities ruin his friendship with someone who used to share all his secrets with him. As an angelic, Danny felt ashamed, as a person, Danny felt like a total ass.

Friday was when thing finally came to a head. The nun had them paired up as they practiced different angelic wing stances. The placement of wings was important in the angelic community and was something everyone needed to know or they risked saying something they had no intention of actually saying, the wrong turn of a wing was an insult, another a threat, another a promise. Catherine was teaching them how to show other angelics respect by bowing with their wings. This was a complicated technique that no one in class seemed to be able to do, they had to spread their wings above their head and then twist them outwards and then lift their tips. Jackson was having more trouble then the rest of them. His wings were too long and big to bend the way the teacher wanted them to. While no one in class had fully manifested wings they could all still summon them enough to feel them, which the nun said was important to get proper placement. She kept pestering and bothering Jackson and telling him that this was something his parents should have thought him long ago. Catherine made one mistake, in her anger and frustration she touched them, Jackson's wings, even he knew that that was something no one should do without his permission and Jackson saw red. He flicked his wings outward once and sent everyone beside him flying into the wall.

He grabbed Catherine by the throat and tossed her on the ground, "Listen you little feathered freak, I've put up with all your fucking bullshit, your little looks, and I know you hate that I was raised by demonics, I know you think that that somehow makes me less than the other angelics in this class, but if you touch my wings ever again I will run my sword so deep through your body you'll be able to taste my steel in the after life," he finished by blasting a gust of air so hard throughout the classroom it knocked over desks, Jackson stormed out of the class and out of the school. Outside he launched himself into the sky and flew off to clear his mind and his anger. Catherine lay on the floor, tears streaming out of her eyes, no one had seen an angelic act in anger in several hundred years and Catherine was reminded of biblical stories, when God used to send down angels to punish wicked humans, and for a brief second she thought that Jackson was going to kill her for all the bad things she had done.

Jackson landed in a large clearing in the woods with a sonic boom that rocked the trees around him. He yelled at the top of his voice, he had never been so angry or felt so violated. He pulled on his grace and summoned fire, he blasted it out of his hands like streams from a flamethrower, he summoned large explosions of fire in front of him so hot that the trees didn't burn they petrified into hard charcoal. His halo blazed bright and hot until it caught fire over his head, his wings blazed into fire as Jackson scorched the earth around him until all his anger was spent. Surprisingly, it took less magic than Jackson thought, he wasn't even tired, not physically just…emotionally.

He walked slowly home and didn't reach it till dark. Waiting for him were his parents, Chris and Gerard Argent, and surprisingly Derek Hale. Jackson thought he was in trouble. He wasn't, Stiles had gone straight to Gerard and told him what had happened before Catherine could. He'd fired her on the spot, touching another angelics wings without permission was considered rape, it was even written into law, and Catherine had been kind enough to spew poisonous words against all demonics, even said a few choice words against the Whittemore's and their disgusting twisted angelic of a son. She'd done it in front of the whole school and she had been fired in front of the whole school. Gerard had even called her parish and told them all she had said and warned them that they had a demophobic in their midst.

"Hey…what are all you guys doing here," asked Jackson he was confused and weary.

"Well we're trying to figure out what to do with you…you pretty much scared everyone in your class," said Gerard, Jackson didn't really care.

"Anyways," interrupted Chris, "we're busier trying to find someone to replace Catherine. We need someone before the weekend ends and its not going so easy. But after today we, your parents and Gerard and me, realized we might have made a mistake with you. See we placed you into the angelic classes, which I heard your actually doing pretty well in, considering…Anyways, we put you in those classes without taking into consideration that fact that you were raised by demonics which is why we've decided to put you into the hybrid program and we asked Derek here to act as your tutor outside of school. We also called Stiles' dad and made a schedule for you two to follow. So on Saturday Stiles will help you catch up to the angelics class and on Sunday Derek will help you catch up to the demonic classes."

Chris Argent had actually realized he made a mistake the day he came to help the Whittemore's to help them with their son. They had no clue what to do and neither did Chris. The Whittemore's wanted him to talk to Gerard, which he did, and it's why they decided to put him in the 2nd level classes rather than the 1st level ones. But while Jackson was able to do everything an angelic could do, he didn't do anything of the things angelics were supposed to do. He was rude, selfish, arrogant, narcissistic, and everything a good demonic should be. It was obvious that Jackson was a hybrid, just not one they were used to dealing with.

Jackson sighed, he now had twice as much work to do. He walked past the concerned group and into the kitchen while they all talked amongst themselves. He dug around the fridge until he found some leftovers, which he popped into the microwave to reheat.

"Did everything go well in school today, you know, other than the molestation," asked Derek, startling Jackson out of his hunger fueled stupor.

"Yeah…" Jackson didn't know why but, being near Derek seemed to make him nervous and jittery. Ever since he was a kid he remembered being a bit jealous of Derek, he remembered seeing Derek in his armor and running around with his stubby horns and strong tail and wishing that one day he would look like him, Derek was the type of demonic Jackson had wished he would one day become. Basically, he worshipped Derek as the model of manly demonism Jackson thought he would one day be and when he hadn't, the image of Derek seemed even more prominent in his mind, as if he once only saw what he wanted, and now he could see the man, and for reasons he didn't understand that made him nervous.

"You sure you're okay? I know a lot has happened to you this week, I guess what I'm saying is…if you want to talk about it…"

"I don't know, what would people say if they saw Derek Hale talking about his emotions, with an angelic, people will talk," Jackson and Derek laughed.

"How about some swordplay instead, Scott called me after class whining about how I hadn't showed him anything and how much better you were than he was…I guess I want to see how good you are for myself," said Derek looking at Jackson in a way that had him nervous again, he felt heat rise to his cheeks and turned away from Derek.

"Uh…yeah, that sounds like fun," said Jackson while simultaneously shoveling food into his mouth until it was all gone.

Jackson and Derek stepped outside into his backyard and Derek summoned his sword, it was a vicious thing, long with sharp teeth along one of its edges, it seemed to be made of some dark metal that had no shine to it. Jackson summoned his own lustrous long blade.

"Uh…I'm still new to this so…"

"You asking me to go easy on you Jackson," said Derek with a raised eyebrow, Jackson blushed but squared his shoulder and got into the fighting stance Finstock had taught him.

Derek rushed him, came at him fast and spun his sword over his head before bring it across his front in a diagonal slash. Jackson froze, for just a second, before he lifted his sword and felt Derek's own crash against his. It hurt his entire arm and he almost dropped his sword, Derek recovered fast and brought the hilt of his sword around and slammed it against Jackson's head, he saw stars but shook them off. Derek rushed again and this time Jackson meet him halfway, he swung his sword and crashed it against Derek's own, he felt Derek move his sword so that the teeth of his sword could catch the side of his own but the blade was too smooth and the teeth slide right off. Their swords meet again and again but neither would back down. Derek would landed more blows on Jackson's body that had the boy panting and tired, but Derek was actually having some difficulty bringing him down.

Finally Derek decided to cheat, when they meet in the middle again Derek held Jackson close by his sword, used the teeth on his to catch the blade hard, and then wrapped his ghostly tail around Jackson's thigh. Jackson felt Derek's tail wrap high up his crotch, he could fill the pointy tip touching his dick and then Derek pulled him hard to the ground. Derek wrapped his arms around Jackson's throat in a submission hold, but Jackson couldn't believe how stupid Derek was, just because he couldn't feel them didn't mean they were there, Derek had completely forgotten about his wings and with one hard outward push Jackson pushed Derek across the yard were he landed hard on his side, his tail burned from were it was yanked from Jackson's thigh. Derek _had _forgotten about Jackson huge wings, in the dark yard he couldn't even see them, which was impossible since Derek had perfect night vision.

He got up off the ground and faced Jackson who was standing already, Derek watched as he changed his stance, centered himself more squarely, closer to the ground, and gripped his sword with both hands rather than one, Derek knew for a fact that Jackson's first lesson had been that day and seeing him switch stances sent a thrill through him he didn't full understand, all he knew was that there was finally someone in town who might be able to match his talents. He rushed Jackson, ran forward and brought his sword down as hard as he could, Jackson waited and when Derek's blade connected with his he twisted his sword slightly, caught one of the teeth on the edge of his blade and pulled up as hard as he could and felt Derek's sword fly out of his opponent's hands and into the sky. Derek leaped backward, and tried to catch his sword, Jackson sent it flying with a blast from his powerful wings. Derek was stunned, no one had ever disarmed him, but he could still fight.

He pulled on his magic and Jackson felt as the air around them fell several degrees at a time until Derek was surrounded by a freezing cloud of ice, from this, Derek formed long spears of clear frozen water and flung them at Jackson with deadly speed, Jackson blocked it with his sword, which Derek had planned, he melted the ice until it was water and when it splattered against Jackson's sword he refroze and pulled it with all his might and smiled when he felt it clatter against the ground. He summoned another ice spear and flung it, Jackson knew what to do, he had just done it a few hours ago, he summoned a cloud of fire so hot it instantly turned the ice into vapor in a powerful puff of air. He then summoned fire into his palm and flung it at Derek, who leaped out of the way just in time to watch the ball explode into a pool of liquid heat, lava. Derek tackled Jackson to the ground and pinned him there, Jackson fought against it until he accidentally rubbed their crotches together, he froze, Derek was hard, and worse, so was he.

"Where did you summon that fire from," asked Derek.

"What,"

"The fire, you had to get it from somewhere, either pool oxygen into your palm and set that on fire, or burn the magic itself but that always burns different colors, but you just fucking summoned fire out of nowhere and you can't do that,"

"What," Jackson was still too stunned from having felt Derek's erection rub against his own. He had been fighting Derek and was full of adrenaline and suddenly he realized how…_.erotic _the whole situation had been and he was freaking out a little.

"Boys," called Mrs. Whittemore from the backdoor, Derek looked at her with glowing red eyes and Mrs. Whittemore smiled, "Come inside for dinner," she knew that a demonics eyes only glowed like that when they've found someone worthy of mating with, and like angelics, demonics mate for life.

That night Jackson dreamt of fighting Derek, their swords clashed again and again, like the tolling of a bell, until they both collapsed side by side exhausted, and when Derek turned over and pulled Jackson into a kiss, he opened his mouth and met Derek's tongue half way, they battled. Jackson accepted that his adoration of that man had developed into a full blown crush which was driving him into uncontrollable lust and wondered what the fuck had brought it on, he thought he was straight, but his parents had taught him that sexuality was fluid and if he was attracted to Derek, well…maybe he should do something about it. The next morning Jackson woke up sweaty and out of breath, his pants were sticky and Jackson was mortified to know that he had had a wet dream, never in his life had he had a wet dream. When he showered, he gripped his hard dick in his hands and thought of Derek, and jerked himself to completion. He was totally and irrevocably fucked.


	3. Chapter 3

Jackson ate breakfast around ten thirty and waited for Stiles to show up. He hadn't bothered dressing and was still in his boxer briefs after showering, his parents were already gone god knows where. He took his cereal to the coach and turned on the television and watched old episode of Gundam Wing. People didn't know it but Jackson was a huge geek that at times rivaled even Stiles. He ate three bowels of cereal before Stiles rang his door bell. Jackson got up and unlocked the door and called out, "ITS OPEN!" before he returned to the coach and his cereal.

"Dude what the fuck you could have at least—and your naked," Stiles covered his eyes and just stood there.

"I'm not naked," said Jackson and lifted his arms, "I'm wearing underwear." Stiles looked and then looked away.

"Can you like at least put some pants on,"

"Why, see something you like," said Jackson and wiggled his eyebrows at Stiles who flicked him off. Jackson laughed but went up to his room and dressed in jeans and his most comfortable shirt, it happened to be a batman shirt.

Stiles sat on the coach and took of his red hoodie and exposed his superman t-shirt. Jackson laughed but didn't react to the obvious nerd bait, instead he opened his wing etiquette book and practiced doing them with Stiles. They did it for two hours before Jackson's wings seemed to grow stiff and painful, which was fucking weird since they weren't even real, at least not on this plain of existence. But they did ache and so he and Stiles stopped to have lunch. Jackson's mother had ordered more food and it had been delivered that morning while he slept. He dug around the fridge and found some humus and a crudités platter and set that on the table. He put the humus in two dishes and handed one to Stiles who looked at the dish with barely contained contempt.

"Uhhh…don't you have like…real food,"

"Dude this is good for you, you are looking a bit pudgy,"

"I certainly am not," said Stiles, but he ate the vegetables and humus without complaint, and Jackson smirked throughout the whole meal.

"So me, Scott, and Danny are all going to the gay club in town and I wanted to know if you wanted to come with us," asked Stiles.

"I don't know, do Scott and Danny know I'm going,"

"Yes, of course,"

"Well do they even want me there,"

"…I want you there,"

"Why don't you want to go alone with them," asked Jackson, he could tell that there was something that Stiles wasn't saying, something about his voice that hinted at a secret.

"I…I'm tired of coming second to Danny. I used to be Scott's best friend and now…now I don't even know if he even cares about me,"

"Wow, that's so sad,"

"Fuck you Jackson," Stiles grabbed his bags and prepared to leave, he didn't need any shit from Jackson.

"Okay fine. If Scott is going to steal my best friend I guess I might as well go ahead and steal his," Jackson was completely serious, he will take Scott's best friend and be a better friend than Scott ever could, Jackson was going to out shine him in one other thing.

Stiles looked at him like he was crazy but he didn't leave, not for the rest of the day. Stiles got to learn first hand that Jackson was a huge nerd, he had complete collections of comic books, their single print issues and the mass market paperbacks. Jackson had a huge collection of classic Super Nintendo and Sega Genesis games. The two spent the day playing Super Mario Bros. 3 and Sonic and Knuckles, and when they grew bored of that Jackson pulled out his Dreamcast and they played Rival Schools and Jet Grind Radio. Stiles was shocked and amazed, usually Scott hated all of this, he hated comics, he hated video games, but mostly he hated playing them with Stiles. Hanging out with Jackson had been enlightening, Stiles wasn't used to doing things that he actually wanted to do rather doing whatever Scott wanted, no matter how badly Stiles didn't.

When night fell the two boys got ready to go out. Jackson dressed up, he put on a tight long sleeved henley and over that a dark blue blazer, he wore grey slacks. Stiles didn't have anything half as nice and if he was going to start hanging out with Jackson he would have to start dressing better, which is why Jackson gave him some clothes, literally gave him, he wasn't going to wear clothes that Stiles had worn. They both hid their halos and wings.

Jackson drove them there in his Porsche, Scott and Danny were already there waiting in line to get in. Jackson and Stiles stepped out of his car, Jackson tossed his keys to the valet and walked past the line, the bouncer and right into the club, Stiles followed close behind and was stunned, he had never received VIP treatment, anywhere. Jackson hadn't actually wanted to come, but thinking about Derek and his dream the night before had him wondering. He wanted to test, to experiment, and he knew of no better place.

Jackson bought them drinks, two whiskey on the rocks. Stiles hated it, that taste was awful and burned on the way down, but Jackson said it made them look cool and weirdly enough, when Stiles caught sight of their own reflections in the mirror behind the bar he had to agree, they did. They waited and talked for an hour, Stiles noticed all the guys that were staring at Jackson but were too intimidated to actually talk to him, he also noticed that just by being with Jackson he seemed to be getting more attention himself, as if being near someone as hot as Jackson made him hot too for just having been lucky enough to come with him.

Finally, Scott and Danny made it into the bar and started walking their way, Jackson noticed and threw his arm over Stiles shoulder and led him away toward two guys Jackson had noticed a while ago. One of them looked kind of like Scott, Jackson thought that Stiles might enjoy that one, the other, well, he was tall and had an angular face. His hair and eyes were dark and he had a nice coating of facial hair, basically he looked like a poor copy of Derek. Surprisingly, they all hit it off. Stiles and his guy got busy talking about some online game they were both playing and Jackson and the guy he had chosen were busy staring each other down, trying to size the other one out.

They talked for another hour, occasionally Jackson would catch Scott and Danny throwing them looks from the bar, the other boys were busy trying to pretend that they were having fun.

"So…I'm an angelic," said the guy Jackson was with.

"Me too," responded Jackson.

"Really? I thought you were a full born demonic when I saw you," the guy blushed, "I…well…you're really attractive,"

"I know," responded Jackson with a glint in his eyes, "I was raised by demonics."

"Oh cool, I just read about that in Scientific America. It said that within pure demonic lines you usually find the most powerful angelics, and the opposite is true, within pure angelic lines the most powerful demonics are born…"

Jackson smiled and leaned over and said, "I think, you want to go to the bathroom to take a piss," Jackson gave him a look and watched the guys face redden before he shook his head and told his friend he was going to the restroom. Jackson knew that if the guy had really been Derek he wouldn't have let Jackson take control like he had, no they both would have wrestled for it. Jackson wasn't sure what turned him on more, the thought of taking control or giving it up.

He followed not much later but not too soon. He walked into the bathroom and was instantly pulled into a stall and slammed against the door, the guy wasn't as passive as Jackson had thought. They were kissing then, rough and hard and Jackson enjoyed the scrape of beard across his bare cheeks and the strong tongue trying to fight its way into his mouth. Jackson grabbed the guys shoulders and pushed him down until he was on his knees. Jackson looked at the guy and they both knew what the other had to do, he reached out and unzipped Jackson's jeans. He looked up at Jackson as he pulled Jackson's dick out of his jeans and stroked it until it was nice and stiff. He then took it into his mouth. Jackson closed his eyes when the warm heat enveloped him. This wasn't the first blow job he'd had, but it was the best. High School girls didn't know what they were doing, they were new, but this guy, he wasn't and he was skilled. He ran his tongue underneath Jackson shaft and against the engorged vein. He bobbed his head up and down and focused on the sensitive head. As he worked Jackson heard something, he felt the clothes beneath his fingers move and when Jackson opened his eyes he could see the guys wings. Not the ephemeral ones, but fully manifest white wings, his halo hung above his head, a simple yellow ring, and pulsed with his arousal, the book Jackson read had said nothing about the pulsing halos. Jackson felt himself slipping and soon his own ephemeral wings were out and his halo hung above his head and pulsed with his arousal. It was all so _dirty_ and Jackson loved it. He loved the smell of piss around them, he loved the blasting music that vibrated the walls, he loved that people walked in and out without knowing what was happening right next to them, Jackson was in his element. When the guy saw Jackson's deep black wings and floating crown he took his mouth off of Jackson.

"Wow, you look—"Jackson shoved his dick back into the guys mouth, he knew how amazing he looked. He began to pump his hips in and out of the willing mouth, he enjoyed the way it would bump into the back of the guys throat and the way the muscles squeezed around him. He remembered then, reading about the sensitive wing spots, around the joints, close to were the wings attached to the body. Jackson ran his fingers around his area until he felt it, a small little nub. He rubbed this and flicked it with his thumb, squeezed the area around it until they guy was moaning around his dick. He sucked harder and with more energy until Jackson realized he was going to come, his wings slammed against the stall walls and left deep dents in them, his halo shone bright and illuminated the large bathroom, and he came in the guys mouth. The guy moaned around Jackson, his wings had been stimulated until he had come, no one had ever done that to him, to his wings, and he hadn't been prepared and came in his pants, he swallowed. Jackson pulled the guy up roughly and kissed him hard, tasted himself in the guys mouth and then pushed him away. He tucked himself back into his jeans and rearranged his clothes until they were perfect again, he hid his wings and halo. The guy just stood there stunned. Jackson pushed past him and was about to leave when they guy called out, "Wait don't I even get your number?"

"No," said Jackson he didn't need some love struck puppy calling him all the time.

"What if I want to do this again," asked the guy and Jackson laughed,

"It doesn't matter what you want, if _I_ want to do this again, I'll find you," Jackson walked out of the restroom and easily found Stiles making out with the Scott look alike, Jackson smirked, he knew it. He pulled Stiles off the guy, the little nerd was pretty aggressive, and yanked him past the dance floor, the crowd, and out the door and into his car.

They drove home in relative silence, Stiles kept rearrange himself in his pants and Jackson felt bad he hadn't let the poor kid get off.

"Hey I'm sorry I didn't let you get yours…"

Stiles just laughed and shook his head, "Its okay, I don't think he was going to give it up anyways…" they both laughed, it had been a pretty good day for the two of them.

The next morning Jackson woke up groggy, he was a little hung over and the light from outside made him squint in his too bright room. His muscles were sore from sleeping too much and his mouth tasted like cheap liquor and everything bad in the world. He stretched slowly and moaned when he felt his tense muscles relax. He snuggled deeper into his pillow and sighed.

"Jackson wake up," someone was shaking his leg, "Its time for your lessons," and Jackson freaked. He sat upright and pulled his leg away from Derek Hale who was sitting on his bed with a smirk on his face. Derek's eyes traveled down from Jackson's bare torso and followed Jackson's naked flesh until it disappeared underneath the covers, Jackson blushed.

"Get out," he said, Derek looked at him before getting up and walking towards the door, "you should shower quickly, you reek of liquor and sweat," said Derek and smirked at Jackson and walked out the door. Jackson took deep breathes, Derek had scared the shit out of him, especially because Jackson was thinking about jerking off too the image of a certain demonic in mind. Jackson took a long hot shower before finally dressing, he pulled on some jeans and pulled a sweat shirt over his head.

Derek was waiting for him in the kitchen, he had a bowl of fruit in front of him and another one in his hand which he held out to Jackson. Jackson sat across from him and together they ate in silence.

Jackson cleared the table while Derek brought out all the books Jackson would need for his demonic classes.

"The teacher is my uncle Peter so I basically know all his lessons by memory and should be able to catch you up fairly quickly to where he is now. The lessons are basically the same as the angelic ones, Monday is Society and Culture, which is the same as the angelic one except it focuses on demonics, basically it's a history class—"

"Why don't they just teach them together,"

"What,"

"I mean angelic and demonic history is important to all spirituals so it doesn't make sense that they would keep half of the history hidden from the other cause you know its important …" holy shit Jackson was babbling.

Derek smiled, "they teach you the history that you are born into first, then the other. But I agree, it's stupid that they separate them that way, but that's not really something I control." Derek smiled and Jackson looked away. He had never felt what he was feeling then, he had never had a crush, and he didn't know what to do.

"Tuesday," continued Derek, "is magic, Wednesday is biology which is something you don't need to worry about, but I brought the book any ways, Peter won't mind if you ditch that day. Thursday is free elective, and Friday is Pubic Speaking, its not what you think…Anyways it isn't too different from what you're learning now, you just have to study. You are being tested but not graded, but if you don't pass you don't get to move on to the next level. Remember there are five, two in high school and three after. I thought it'd be best to let you study history and biology by yourself, you know, just read the books. Public Speaking isn't anything your going to have trouble with, I can tell," Derek smirked, "but demonic magic is completely different from angelic magic, basically the opposite and you need to learn that fast, unlike angelics, demonics use magic all the time."

Derek pulled out the school's generic magic book, the demonic version, and turned to its easiest spell, bad luck. Jackson hated this shit, he didn't really care about helping other people and these spells were all about helping other people, but he didn't want to fall behind, it's the same reason why he'd learned to do blessings and good luck, even if he hated it. He also had to know these spells if he wanted to protect himself from them.

"I'm a spell weaver," began Derek, "there are different kinds out there. Spell weavers can't just do magic like others can, we have to, well, weave them. My mother has to…used to draw hers out, all of them start with a circle used to contain the spell and then, depending on the person, the shapes or letters or words that make up the spell. Weavers have to perfectly balance all the forces, all the variables, so that there spells do what they want them to, if not terrible things could happen," Derek pulled out a piece of paper and drew a circle and on the inside he drew a red x, simple. "This is the way I draw bad luck, every person has a different way, my mother used to draw a yellow circle. If we want to jinx, you know a jinx is always a bad luck spell, we either need to leave this piece of paper on the person we wish to curse, or draw it on an item, or over the persons picture. We either jinx an object or the person, or we jinx the object so that it passes to the person, it's pretty straight forward. What kind of magic do you do?" asked Derek completely stumping Jackson he didn't really know, he just did it.

"I just think it and it happens…"that sounded so lame Jackson snorted and blushed.

"That means you're a sorcerer, the most powerful kind, sorcerers can bend magic to do whatever they want, they don't have to go through complicated rituals, or drawing, or even say anything to make it happen. It's also the most dangerous kind, uncontrollable, sorcerers often cast spells without even realizing and they almost always end up killing themselves. You'll have to train extra hard…this is going to be harder than I thought…" Derek had no idea where to start with Jackson, he'd never trained a sorcerer before and didn't really understand it himself, Jackson needed another sorcerer to teach him but those were rare. He knew Stiles was a sorcerer but he had his mothers spell book, she had been the most powerful sorceress in town before she died.

"How would you do this, the spell," asked Derek.

"I…I don't know. I guess I would think of what I wanted to happen and then I would have to think about how I wanted to jinx the person. So if I wanted to jinx someone to always get red lights at a traffic light, I would think of that and then… well I could either jinx the person or the car, or the traffic lights…or…I have no clue," Jackson smiled at Derek, and they both laughed.

"Well you're going to have to figure it out, you're going to be tested on this, how do you give someone a blessing,"

"Well that's different, people are always there for that, I just think of all the good things in the world and pour all that into my hand and then touch the person, that's a basic blessing, but jinxing is harder, apparently…"

"Maybe it has to do with your grace, your magic, we demonics use taint, it's our version of magic…"

For the next two hours they poured over Derek's magic book and tried to figure out a way for Jackson to do the spells, they never did. Jackson couldn't wrap his head around it and if he couldn't do that he couldn't do the spells.

But the day wasn't a complete waste, they got to sit together so close their shoulders and thighs touched, and every time Derek would smirk at him Jackson would blush, something he hadn't done before but was doing repeatedly then. While they huddled together over a book Jackson felt something tickling his leg and suddenly something searing hot wrapped around his calf. He looked at Derek but he hadn't noticed, Derek had unknowingly wrapped his tail around Jackson's calf. At one point they just gave up and decided to eat lunch on the coach while watching television. Derek sat close and casually threw his arm on the back of the sofa almost touching Jackson's shoulders. Jackson raised an eyebrow at Derek who raised one back, Jackson just scooted closer to Derek until he could lay his head on the man's shoulder, he wasn't going to beat around the bush, he was attracted and he was going to let Derek know it. Instead, Jackson promptly fell asleep.

He was roused when his pillow shook, Jackson made a protesting sound, something close to a whimper. It took him a while to remember where he was but when he heard his mother's voice he was instantly brought back to reality, he lifted his head off of Derek's shoulder and squinted around the room. His mother was sitting in a love seat across from Jackson and was having a conversation with Derek. Jackson entire face burnt red and he hoped no one would point it out.

"What time is it," he whispered, he was exhausted,

"It's seven sweetie," answered his mother.

"You could have left," Jackson told Derek, he was thoroughly embarrassed.

"No I couldn't," he said and looked down, Jackson followed and saw that he'd wrapped his arms around Derek's torso in a tight death grip that Derek had tried but couldn't pry off, Jackson felt like dying. He unwrapped his arms from the man's torso and stood up. He was stiff and ached, he lifted his arms above his head and stretched, his wings came out and stretched to their full length, knocking down several things, until the very tips were stretched out, he then let it all go and loved the way his muscles relaxed. Derek had a look in his eyes that Jackson didn't recognize but set his skin on fire.

"I..I have to go, thanks for having me," Derek promptly excused himself and left.

Jackson's mother gave him a look, "What," said Jackson feeling guilty.

"You're attracted to him," she said and had Jackson blushing and stuttering, badly,

"I-I-I-I-I d-d-don't," was all he could get out before he had to stop talking completely, it was as good as just admitting to it, his mother still had that look on her face.

"You peacocked for him," she said accusingly,

"How do you even know about that, and no I-I didn't,"

"Yes you did and I've been reading, you're my son of course I've been reading up on angelic culture," Jackson groaned, the last thing he needed was for his mom to go out and research angelic puberty and mating rituals. Jackson remembered that peacocking was something that angelics did to attract a mate, Jackson had not been doing that.

"You totally were," said his mother as if she'd read his mind, "you stretched your wings out high and completely exposed them, all the way to the tips," it was true he had done that.

"I was stretching…"

"Regardless, you should do something about it, I think he likes you too,"

"You don't know that," said Jackson feeling some of his insecurities bleed into his voice.

"I do, we demonics have ways of showing our attractions to other demonics, our eyes glow red,"

"Well Derek's weren't so there's nothing to talk about…I doubt he even likes me…"

"Oh please, you're a Whittemore, of course he likes you," finished Jackson mother as she lifted herself off the sofa and walked away towards her room.

Jackson ran up to his room completely embarrassed. He took his sweat shirt off and threw it in the closet. He landed on his bed and looked up at his roof and thought back on the day, about his epic magic fail, about Derek's tail, Jackson briefly wondered how that would have felt somewhere else and took several minutes to imagine. He closed his eyes and petted himself through his jeans when he heard a noise outside his window. He stood up and there sitting one his window sill was Derek. Jackson walked over and opened the window but didn't move to let Derek in.

"What are you doing here," he asked and ignored the fact that Derek had probably seen him grabbing his dick.

"Nothing I just thought we could talk…"

"Okay," said Jackson not really sure what to say. Derek unexpectedly leaned in and kissed him quickly and chastely on the lips. Then Derek wrapped his hand around the back of Jackson's neck and kissed him deeply and thoroughly, Jackson pulled him into his room, walked back until they could fall messily on the bed. Derek kissed Jackson and thrust his tongue into the younger mans mouth, Jackson bit Derek's lower lip hard enough to draw blood and licked it off. Derek brought his hips down on top of Jackson's and thrust, sent a shiver up Jackson's body, and did it again and again until he was finally able to get Jackson to moan. Jackson felt the searing hot tip of Derek's tail slither up his torso to his chest, felt the triangular tip flick one of his nipples and Jackson was on edge, he felt wings come out, felt his halo appear and begin that slow steady pulse. Derek stopped and looked down at Jackson, took in his heated red flesh and Derek pulled away and sighed, sounded disappointed, Jackson was confused and felt oddly vulnerable.

"I just came…I need to tell you that whatever is happening," he used his hands to vaguely motion between them and moved off of Jackson and back towards the open window, he climbed out and stopped, "It…this…thing…it can't happen,"

"W-w-wha-t,"

"My family is in ruins, it's only me and my uncle and he's a burned out husk of who he was, literally, I can't…I have to find someone who…I need to rebuild my family…I just can't do this," ended Derek, the entire time he refused to look Jackson in the eyes.

Jackson was furious, beyond furious, he was seething with barely contained rage. He said two words, "Fuck you," before he roughly pushed Derek out his window and watched him fall all the way down, watched as Derek slammed into the ground with a loud groan. Derek looked up in time to see Jackson one last time, above his head shone his halo, red hot and completely engulfed in fire. Jackson shut his window, slammed it so hard it cracked the glass. Derek picked himself off the ground and walked away and into his car, he had the feeling that he had made the worse mistake of his life.

Jackson paced his room like caged animal, he had never felt so angry, he had never felt so _rejected_. It was one of his worst fears, not being good enough, being unseen, unwanted, and to have it come to life was the worst feeling he had ever suffered. His anger brought tears to his eyes and Jackson let them fall down his face in twin streams. He opened his window, climbed up on his roof and blasted into the sky. He flew higher and higher, until the oxygen became too thin, until the air grew freezing cold, and when his lungs burned from lack of breath and ice clung to his body, he fell. When he approached the ground he stretched his wings and floated back down and landed lightly on his roof. He wasn't angry now, just incredible sad. He tried not to, he was Jackson Whittemore, he would get over it, soon, but until then…he cried.

In Beacon Hills Memorial Hospital slept an older demonic, she was a catholic and had spent most of her life praying for forgiveness. She had dedicated her life to charity and the betterment of man kind, she was a good women. As she slept someone entered her room, stroked her head and wiped it of the sweat that seemed to soak it. The demonic was dying, cancer that had progressed to far and no healer could cure it, all the hospital could do was make her last few days as comfortable as possible. As the demonic slept the stranger ran her hand over the woman's face and slowly down to her chest, right above her heart. The stranger placed her hand there and said a few words and slowly sucked the life and the demonic taint out of her chest, killing her and stealing her magic, her armor, her demonic being. The strangers hair was fire red and above her head floated a laurel wreath halo which flashed once before disappearing.


	4. Chapter 4

Monday morning Jackson was still angry, he couldn't believe fucking Derek. Jackson didn't care about the fucking Hale name, he knew that they both had something going and Derek had been cruel enough that he'd actually given Jackson a taste. Jackson wanted more, and he was going to get it.

That day in school he got into a fight with Scott for no reason. He knew who they would have to call. The principal called Jackson's parents and neither answered their phones, they were busy people, Jackson also knew they wouldn't care, Mr. Argent did as well. Next, he called Scott's mom, but she was busy at the hospital and couldn't even come to the phone, so he called Derek, just like Jackson knew they would.

Derek wasn't prepared for what he walked into, seeing Jackson clean and undisturbed, looking like a cherub, next to Scott, who looked like he'd been hit by a bus and dragged for miles. Jackson scowled at him and Derek took Scott out into the hall.

"What the fuck happened," he asked annoyed.

"I don't know!" answered Scott.

"Why'd you start this," Scott knew better than to do something so stupid.

"I didn't, he did,"

"That's not what Argent said,"

"What!"

"He said you were making fun of Jackson for being adopted—"

"I wouldn't," Derek raised an eyebrow, "I wouldn't I was just walking to class when he fucking pounced on me, I didn't even get a punch in when Mr. Harris pulled him off …"

"…I'll go talk to him," Derek walked back into Argents office and was glad to find that Gerard was gone, he was probably going to let Derek handle things.

"What did Gerard say," asked Derek.

"Nothing, he gave me a warning," Jackson smirked at Derek which both infuriated him and turned him on.

"Did Scott really make fun of you for being adopted,"

"Of course not," said Jackson and again smirked. He got out of his seat and walked past Derek and out of the principal's office, past Scott who was nursing his face with an ice pack, provided by Danny, who scowled when he saw Jackson sauntering down the hall. Derek followed Jackson with an audible growl and roughly pulled him into an empty classroom.

"What the fuck are you playing at Jackson,"

Jackson laughed, "Its simple, the only thing that's keeping us apart is your stupid need to return your families name to its 'former glory'", Jackson used air quotes, "so I figured I'd just completely destroy your families name, then you won't have to worry about it," Jackson smirked at Derek with a glint in his eyes which suggested things to come, rumors to spread, assets to take, and Scott was just the beginning.

"You little shit," Derek grabbed Jackson by the hair and pushed him down roughly over one of the tables, Jackson grabbed a hunk of Derek's own hair and pulled him down as well. Jackson wrapped his arm around the back of Derek's neck and brought their faces together, kissed him roughly and unforgiving, all clashing teeth and deep bites. Derek gave in, he couldn't fight his attraction to the damn irritating boy, he didn't allow himself to think about the fact that when he died, so would the Hale name, or the fact that no one in town respected the Hale name in longer, instead he sunk deep into the arousal Jackson was able to tear out of him unwillingly. They kissed and Derek moved his mouth down to suck on the boys neck and sink his teeth deep into the waiting flesh, Jackson body quivered and he released a moan from between his tightly pressed lips, trying to suppress his own arousal or keep it hidden, Derek wouldn't allow that. He brought their hips together and began to rut back and forward, pressing their hard lengths together. He bit Jackson hard again and tore a gasp from the boy and Derek sunk his tongue deep into the open mouth. He let his tail slither up the boys torso, lifted his shirt, and sunk it deep into Jackson's pants, Jackson moaned again, loud and so, so, sweetly, mouth wide open and inviting. Derek was fully prepared to wrap his tail around Jackson dick until he heard someone cough. Derek launched himself across the room, knocking several desks over, in an attempt to put some distance between him and Jackson, the last thing he needed were rumors of him defiling some high school boy like some sort of pedo-perv to spread around town.

His uncle stood in the doorway with a knowing look in his eyes, Jackson took deep gasping breathes before standing up, he smooth out his clothes, tucked his shirt back in and rearranged himself in his pants, wiped the drool of his face before taking a deep breath and walking out into the hall, past Peter. Derek and his uncle just stared at each other and said nothing.

"So," started Peter, "is there something you want to tell me,"

"No," said Derek, "…boy has a crush on me is all,"

"Oh, so you thought you'd deter him by, what exactly,"

"…I…I…," he sighed, "I told him okay! I told him that I couldn't! Not while our family name is the way it is…I wouldn't be…I wouldn't be worthy…"

"That's not something you get to decide, he does, and he did, apparently," said Peter raising one of his scarred eyebrows.

"I can't while our families name is basically in the gutter, if it weren't for the Whittemore's the other demonics in town would just completely ignore us and scoff at us, I'm not going to repay their kindness but defiling their son,"

"A little too late for that," said Peter.

"It isn't right, we need to expand our family…"

"Excuses excuses,"

"Regardless, I don't like him like that…" Derek nodded he was sure, it was just lust, uncontrollable all consuming lust, but lust none the less. Peter raised an eyebrow agian, he turned away and set his bags and books down on his desk, he always liked to prepare early for lessons. Derek should have noticed it was his classroom but was too…distracted. Peter walked to the entrance of the classroom and looked through the glass window of the door.

"Well in that case, I'll take him,"

"What!"  
"Well look at him, he is gorgeous, and he has something to him, a spark, no…a fire. I have to admit it, I have thought about how he tastes, how he'll look beneath me-" Derek growled and slammed his fist right next to Peter's head, on the glass window, cracking it.

"He's _Mine!_" he said through gritted teeth and ignored the blood that slowly flowed from his fist and down the door.

"I know," said Peter, "your eyes are glowing red." That was the end of the argument, Derek was fucking in love.

They both looked out into the hall, Jackson and Scott were arguing, Danny was standing behind Scott scowling at Jackson as if he done something wrong, in this case he had. Jackson had Stiles behind him who had been attracted to the noise but was now busy scowling at Danny, the friend stealer.

"What the fuck is your problem Jackson I haven't done anything to you,"

"Whatever Scott, its not like your going to do anything about it, you never do, all you ever do is complain, fucking do something, come on, theirs a first time for everything," taunted Jackson.

Scott growled and summoned his sword and held it out against Jackson's neck. Jackson threw his head back and laughed, loud and hard, and with a quick beat of his invisible wings, sent the sword flying straight up and into the ceiling, sunk the blade deep to the hilt and pointed up.

"Fetch," he said before turning, throwing his arm over Stiles' shoulder, and walking away. Scott stood there dumbfounded before be began to jump after his sword, it was too high up. Danny helped Scott by carrying him on his shoulders, but then the sword was too deeply sunk into the ceiling and Scott was too weak to pull it out.

Peter laughed, "I like him a lot, he'll make a great mate for you, someone who won't take your shit, someone who isn't a little submissive wimp, because lets be honest Derek, sometimes even you need to have the shit kicked out of you." Derek just walked out of the classroom, jumped, and with all his might yanked the sword out of the ceiling. Scott reached out for it but Derek growled and took it with him, to Scott's utter embarrassment.

Jackson took Stiles to the gym with him, he needed to work out some anger and most of his sexual frustration. They lifted weights for an hour and Jackson was surprised to find that Stiles wasn't as skinny as he once thought, he was kind of cut, not like Jackson, but he didn't have to be, it looked good on him. Once they were done Jackson didn't want to go back to class so they ditched, though Stiles was kind of nervous about it. They drove to Jackson's house and spent the day playing Bust a Groove on Jackson's old Playstation.

At four they drove back to school and prepared to meet the new angelics teacher. It was Alan Deaton, Scott's boss, the town veterinarian. He was human but had studied Spiritual history and biology in college, held several doctorates in the subject, and even worked down in the hospital as a spiritual illness consultant. He was nice and skilled and a great teacher, Jackson liked him, he made class interesting. They studied old angelic classifications that hadn't existed in over one hundred and fifty years. How angelics used to hold high positions in law enforcement, were considered guardian angelics, angelics of vengeance that went around the world destroying evil, assured in their righteousness. Jackson loved it, he could see himself doing that, making the world a better place for the family he might one day have.

In demonics class Peter had them go over demonic characters in literature and how they were perceived then and how they would be perceived now, made them contrast and compare the different views. It was an interesting discussion Jackson enjoyed listening to, though Peter kept pushing him to talk, which embarrassed Jackson, he couldn't believe he and Derek had been caught by his uncle/teacher. He consoled himself by looking at Scott's bruised face.

Derek was waiting outside of class, he had Scott's sword in his hand and a black box in his other. He handed the sword to Scott who smiled, "Put it away," he ordered and Scott's smile faded, he then handed the black box to Jackson, they both blushed, and Derek pushed Scott away, and left with him out of the school. People gave Jackson looks but said nothing, Peter was smirking behind Jackson.

Jackson quickly found Stiles and drove the kid home before speeding to his own. He dropped his bags in the kitchen and ran up to his room. He jumped on his bed and sat against the headboard and pulled out the black box. It was small, a jeweler box, wrapped in black paper with a white ribbon tied around it. He pulled the ribbon until it fell off, then slowly unwrapped the paper revealing a smooth velvet box, also black. Jackson opened it. It was a ring, a pure silver ring in the shape of a wolf's head, in its mouth a red ruby. It looked like the wolf embossed in his armor with the moon in its mouth, it was as if Derek had memorized the pattern after having only seen it once, since Jackson had only ever summoned his full armor once. It was the most beautiful thing Jackson had seen.

Jackson pulled out his demonic biology book and turned to the mating section. Demonics didn't have secret g-pots like angelics did, but they did have complicated mating rituals that seemed almost animalistic. They had to choose an appropriate mate through battle, he and Derek did that already, a demonic then had to make exchange of vow and blood, they might have done that when Jackson bit him, and lastly procreate. Then there were a shit load of rituals that had to be done to cement the bond between mates.

Jackson picked up the ring and held it out to the light, the silver shone bright and clear, the ruby was deep blood red. The craftsmanship was incredible, but Jackson wasn't sure what it meant. When he slipped it on his finger it fit perfectly. He had to give Derek a gift in return, he knew it, he could feel it in his grace, the rumble and itch to give something back. He didn't know what though…

He gripped the ring tight in his fist and spun it around his finger. He slept with the ring on and dreamt of swords clashing together, of fleshing sliding along flesh, and of a giant wolf with red glowing eyes.

Tuesday Jackson awoke with an itch on his back, it was bad and stretched all along its length. He scratched and scratched but it didn't help. He scratched it against a door jam until his skin was red and raw. He walked into his bathroom and found some cortisone and rubbed it all along his back, used half the tube, but the itch stopped. He walked back into his room and saw that it was only five in the morning, he fell on his bed and held his hand in front of his face, looked at the ring on his hand and smiled. Jackson wasn't a very good craftsman, he couldn't draw, carve, or mold anything. He had a feeling that Derek had made the ring himself somehow and Jackson knew he had to make something as well, he fell asleep and didn't wake up until his mother called him downstairs for breakfast.

He walked down the stairs and was surprised to find both his parents waiting for him, they had a strange look on their face, like they were trying to hide their smiles.

"Okay…what's wrong," Jackson was instantly suspicious.

"Nothings wrong silly, me and your father have a surprise for you,"

"Ta-da," said his dad and presented him with two books, the family magic book and something else. Jackson couldn't believe it, he grabbed the book and held it delicately in his hand.

"We thought it was time you finally got it," explained his father, "we had it in a safety deposit box in some New York bank and it barely arrived today…"

"This is amazing," said Jackson. For some reason he felt as if his parents weren't planning on giving it to him because…well he thought that because he wasn't blood he wouldn't be allowed to have. He smiled wide and ignored the unshed tears in his eyes and hugged both his parents, they were glad to see how happy he was.

"The other book is from one of your old uncles. I talked to my father and he told me that even though our families have been pure demonics for hundreds of years we did have an uncle who was born angelic, like you, about a hundred years ago. This is his journal, father thought you'd like to have it," explained his mother, "Oh! What a beautiful ring, who gave it to you," said his mother with a sly look in her eye. Jackson ignored her and instead grabbed the books and ran up to his room, he could hear his parents laughing behind him and couldn't help smiling to himself.

School was almost uneventful until lunch. Danny had wanted to confront Jackson about what he did to Scott the day before, he didn't think it was funny how Jackson picked on him. Instead, Danny found Stiles and they argued, loud and in the middle of the cafeteria. Jackson couldn't believe Danny.

"Stay out of this you little freak, you think just because he hangs out with you that he likes you, he doesn't. Your just…_charity_," spat Danny and Jackson saw red.

He grabbed Stiles and pulled him behind him, "well I'm glad Scott is such a great influence on you. Why don't you let me and Scott handle our problems and leave my friend alone he hasn't done anything to you, _you_ on the other hand have some things to answer for." Jackson crossed his arms and waited for Danny's reply, the other boy didn't have one though. Jackson turned and walked out of the cafeteria with Stiles.

They walked out on to the lacrosse field and had lunch on the bleachers.

"You didn't have to do that you know, I can fight my own battles,"

"I know," said Stiles, he sounded sad, "I just got so angry when I saw him. He said he wanted to talk to you and I could tell that all he wanted to do was argue and…I don't know…I just blew a gasket…I feel so stupid."

"Its okay, thanks for protecting my honor and all," Jackson smiled at Stiles and the two boys laughed.

In angelics class they practiced doing healing spells since they were the ones that Deaton was more accustomed to. Stiles was great at them, was able to heal small and large wounds without a problem, barely used any of his magic. Jackson wasn't, he had trouble controlling the flow of his grace and would often cause more harm than good. Deaton had him study anatomy intimately, said that Jackson's problem wasn't the spell he was using, healing didn't use spells, it used the knowledge people had of the human body. Though sometimes people like Stiles were born, people who were gifted at healing, didn't have to do anything other than supply magic. Deaton went on to explain that every spiritual person had something that they could do better than their peers. Some demonics were unusually adept at casting curses, hexes, and jinxes, or angelics who could read and control minds with barely a thought from their own, Deaton went on to add that some angelics could even fly which caused the class to laugh, Jackson was confused.

"Can't all angelics fly," he asked aloud.

"Actually no, it's a very rare trait."

"Oh," was all Jackson said before lowering his head.

In demonics Peter had them practicing jinxes and hexes, Jackson still couldn't do them. He took the time to read his parents spell book. It was an interesting read, it was mostly dominated with spells on mind control and hypnotic suggestion, spells good for business. There were a few seduction spells and some pretty powerful curses that used rituals to summon dead spirits to take vengeance on family enemies, dark stuff, but no jinxes or hexes. Jackson closed the book a bit exasperated. He took out a sheet of paper and drew a circle, he wasn't a spell weaver but he though it might help him visualize. He traced his hand inside the circle and filled it in with his pen until it was deep black, he poured his darkest thoughts into the pen while he filled in the hand, every evil thought he'd ever had, ever bad thing he'd ever wished, all the dark shadows that lived in the recesses of his mind he poured into the dark hand.

"Interesting," said Peter over his shoulder startling Jackson, "that is quite the spell, it's not a jinx or a hex though, it's…a very powerful curse. I'll just take it," he used pincers to lift the paper by a corner and slowly walked to the front of the class. He dropped the paper into a trash can and lit a match.

"Wait! Do-"Peter dropped the match and the room exploded into a cloud of noxious poison. Everyone rushed out the door and fell coughing into the hall. Jackson meticulously opened all the windows and then stood at the head of the classroom and beat his wings. The poisonous cloud slowly flowed out of the window and up into the sky. Six people had to hospitalized for smoke inhalation, but other than that everyone was okay. Peter was impressed by the power of the curse, the police and fireman were not, but Peter had actually stopped the curse from being released, and it was a classroom, the authorities let it go.

"Excellent curse, I'd hate to be your enemy," Peter said while eyeing Scott over Jackson's shoulder, making the other boys skin crawl. Jackson smiled, at least that was true.

Wednesday morning was horrible, Jackson woke up in cold sweats and a bad fever, his back itched like nothing he'd ever felt before. He stumbled into his bathroom and looked at his back in the mirror. The flesh was bright red and enflamed, when he pressed his hand against he could feel…something. He rubbed more cortisone onto it and to his relief felt the itch die away and the redness slowly fade. He popped a few pills into his mouth and hoped they would stop the fever, he texted Stiles, he didn't think he could drive to school and needed a ride. He jumped in the shower and let cold water run over his heated flesh.

His fever died down enough that he could go to school but not enough to make it a pleasant experience. His back no longer itched but ached as if he done hundreds of pull ups or bench presses and it all somehow only affected his back muscles. Teachers noticed and took it easy on him, even Scott and Danny left him alone. He must have looked really bad because Allison and Lydia asked him if he was all right, he told them he was just sick.

Jackson and Lydia were in a good place, their old relationship had been built on a lie and convenience and they both knew, Jackson just hadn't handled the dumping well. Lydia forgave him over the summer though, when they both realized that they worked at the same elementary school, had reconnected as friends and were better of for it.

"Wow Jackson you really look like shit, go home…who gave you that ring,"

"What," asked Jackson completely disoriented.

"Wow, okay I'm getting Stiles."

Jackson didn't remember much after that, all he knew was that he finally woke up in his room later that afternoon feeling slightly better. He lifted his dead body off the bed and went down the stairs to his kitchen to eat something. He decided on some dry toast with butter, which to sick Jackson actually tasted amazing. He slept the rest of the day off and awoke Thursday feeling like new, as if nothing had ever happened.

He drove to school and Stiles was relieved to see that he was alive and well, neither knew what it had been but ignored it, thought it to be a fluke of human biology. School was ordinary and uneventful, though he did have to retake a few exams during lunch which sucked.

After school during sword practice Jackson practiced switching stances while doing his drills. He knew that that skill could some day save his life, being able to move from light hit to heavy hit. He also knew that he wanted to beat Derek one day so he practiced like crazy, even Finstock told him to slow down, Jackson didn't.

He followed Stiles home and they did their homework together and spent the rest of the evening watching television before Jackson went to is house.

Friday Jackson awoke feeling…strange, he shrugged it off and decided to go jogging, he hadn't been in a while and wanted to get back into the rhythm of doing it. He ran into the woods. The sky was cloudy, looked like rain.

Stiles was the first to notice Jackson hadn't shown up in school. He texted the boy and called him but the call just went straight to voice mail and the text went ignored. He drove to Jackson's house and to his relief noticed the Porsche in the driveway and thought that maybe he was just home sick, except no on was there. He knocked on the door and looked through the windows but no one answered. Stiles went to the back and found the fake rock with the spare key, and walked into the house and up the stairs. Jackson's room was empty.

Stiles didn't know what to do and called Jackson's parents and to his surprise they answered, Stiles asked them if they knew where Jackson was, they assumed school. Something was wrong. Stiles called his father, but he said he couldn't report someone missing for twenty four hours and then it had to be his parents.

When night fell and Jackson still hadn't shown up his parents went from concerned to scared, they called the sheriff themselves. He asked how long he had been gone and they weren't sure, they thought since the morning and the sheriff said they had to wait for the next day anyways, because it needed to be at least twenty four hours and it was also too dark to go looking for him then, but he would make calls and form a search party. He wanted them to call his friends to make sure this wasn't Jackson just being irresponsible, though his parents insisted he wouldn't worry them this way.

Saturday morning it rained, a slowly lazy fall of water that coated everything in a slick sheet of cold mist. Stiles, Scott, Danny, Allison, Lydia and Derek were there, so was Peter and Deaton and some other people that had volunteered for the job. They marched through the woods all day in the hopes of finding any sign of Jackson. Derek found some fresh foot prints but they seemed to disappear in a clearing in the woods, the rain washed away the rest. They looked all day but found nothing, they all gathered back at the Whittemore's household to console the parents and to heat up and dry off. The fireplace was blazing hot and Mrs. Whittemore was handing out cups of coffee and pastries. For once Stiles, Scott, and Danny didn't argue, they were all worried, Jackson's disappearance scared them, they heard on the news that there was someone out there killing spirituals, this person had even killed an older woman in the hospital. Around nine someone knocked on the front door, Stiles answered it.

Jackson stood in the door way covered in a thick layer of mud and blood.

"Jackson!" shouted Stiles before the boy collapsed in the entrance. Stiles tried pulling him in but something caught in the doorway.

"What's wrong with him," growled Derek next to Stiles.

"I don't know, I don't know!"

They tried pulling Jackson in through the door but again, something hit the door jam. Then they saw, from his back stretched two powerful wings, huge and black.

"Stop!" shouted Deaton before examining Jackson. He was shirtless and Deaton had to wipe away thick layers of mud to find two gashes stretching down Jackson's back. Blood oozed out of these wounds and Deaton noted how pale and cold he was. He careful folded the wings and the three men lifted Jackson and placed him face down on the kitchen table. The others just floated around not knowing what to do or how to help.

Deaton gave out orders, he need his first aid kit from his car and ordered Scott to get it, he need two giant tubs full of water and certain herbs from his kit, he sent Danny and Mr. Whittemore to find the tubs, and he need to wash all the mud off of Jackson, Derek helped him there. The others he ordered out of the room and told him not to disturb him until he was done.

Deaton and Derek tried to be gentle when cleaning Jackson and worked quickly while the boy was unconscious. As they wiped away mud and blood Derek could see the bunched muscles of Jackson's back, could see them swimming and writhing beneath the skin. Jackson awoke then and began to shout in pain, his back was on fire, his muscles felt as if they were being stretched until they snapped. As Jackson shouted his wings flapped and stretched and the two men were knocked to the ground, Deaton called for help, Stiles ran into the room and at the same time Danny ran in from outside.

"Each of you grab one wing I can't work with him flapping like that" ordered Deaton picking himself off the ground. The two boys grabbed a wing and tried holding it down, but Jackson shouted and his wings folded inwards, the two boys tried to held them like that, and then Jackson bent them powerfully outwards, he sent Stiles flying out of the room, Danny was pressed crushingly against the kitchen wall and felt the air wheeze out of his body. Scott finally came inside with a giant black bag.

"Scott, I need something, a pain killer anything, hurry boy," ordered Deaton as Scott fumbled around the bag until he found a syringe and some ketamine. He handed the hypo to Deaton who plunged it into Jackson's back, near were the wings were making their connection and slowly Jackson's body went limp. The group of men stood in the kitchen in relative quite and just stared. Deaton got to work.

He sewed the large wounds shut with a needle and thread, wishing he was in a hospital. He proceeded to rub the wounds with a special mix of herbs meant to seal the wounds shut without scarring, he doubted it would work though, these wounds were too large and gagged.

"We need to clean his wings, we can't let the mud stick to them, it'll pull the feathers out and that can cause permanent damage. Right now they're at their most sensitive, all touch will be painful, we just have to do it," Deaton looked right at Derek, who nodded. "Scott and Danny, go bring the basins of water in here, one by each wing." Deaton dug in his bag and found a powder, it was a cleaning solution. He also found a vial of holy water and poured half into each tub. Derek and Deaton began to gently clean Jackson's wings, at the first touch Jackson moaned and tried to move away from them, his wings gave a lazy flap, Derek stepped away but Deaton stopped him, they had to do it. So they did, they dipped the wings in the basins of water, Derek was surprised to hear the way the water hissed and released steam, Deaton scowled. They continued coating the wings in the water and watched as steam rose off of them. Jackson moaned and squirmed, and couldn't stop the tears from flowing out of his eyes.

Finally, after two hours the wings were clean. The black feathers had no sheen to them, they were pitch black and the feathers blended together into one giant clump of darkness in the form of a wing. Derek, Deaton and Stiles helped Jackson up the stairs and into his room were they laid him on his bed. Deaton gave him a shot of pain killers and hoped it would last the night.

"He's asleep," said Deaton entering the living room, "he must have been out when his wings manifested, it probably kept him from getting home till today. We're very lucky he's strong, I'm sure if he wasn't he would have died…Anyways, aftercare is incredibly important, every angelic is different but the first few weeks the wings manifest are the most painful, it usually last a month. He needs to keep them clean and well oiled, so you have to make sure he preens. But I doubt hell be able to move in the next few days, his wings are massive and caused massive tears, his muscles are rearrange themselves inside him and that too is painful. I'll come back with some painkillers later …for now just let him rest and keep him warm." Deaton packed his bags and left with some of the other people that had formed the search party.

Derek staid along with Stiles, Scott and Danny, Mrs. Whittemore made more coffee and collapsed in a chair, passed out. Mr. Whittemore picked her up and took her to their room, they were both exhausted and having their son home safe had completely drained them of all adrenaline, the only thing keeping them up. Stiles began to clean the house, wiped the mud from were Jackson dragged it in and wiped down all the surfaces. Dumped the dirty water out into the back yard and put the basins away. Danny sat on the sofa horrified, his wings still hadn't manifested yet and seeing how badly it had hurt Jackson scared him. They always tell angelics it was dangerous but Danny never paid it mind, now it was all he could think of. Scott was glad all he had was horns and a tail, they grew out like hair and finger nails, it didn't hurt, he knew that if it had been him he would have died some where out in the woods.

Derek went up to Jackson's room and sat by his bed, watched the boy sleep. Occasionally he would moan loudly and his wings would give a lazily flap, but mostly he lay in peace. Derek reached out and held the boy's hand, turned it over and felt something on his finger, it was his ring, Jackson was wearing it. Derek smiled, he spent the night with Jackson, cleaning his brow of sweat, held his hands as the muscles in his back writhed and caused him too much pain, Derek didn't think he'd be able to leave him again even if he tried, he vowed to be there for him always, so nothing like today would ever happen again.


	5. Chapter 5

Jackson was in pain, a deep burning pain that stretched along the length of his back. He took deep breathes and tried to relax his muscles but the hurt wouldn't subside. He felt searing pain as one of the muscles in his back shifted and stretched, the pain was so horrific he moaned loudly and let tears pour out of his eyes. For once he wasn't ashamed of crying, he couldn't help it, it felt natural. He whimpered, a sound strange to his own ears but the pain was the worst thing he had ever felt in his eighteen years of life.

He heard someone shush him, felt a hand on his head, smoothing his hair, petting him. The other hand was wrapped around Jackson's own and squeezed. Jackson whimpered again and heard someone talk, your safe, your okay, just breath, I'm here. The hands reassured him, they made him feel safe, it didn't stop the pain, but it helped him fight on.

Mrs. Whittemore stood in the doorway to Jackson's room and stared. Derek hadn't left since they brought Jackson to his room. Derek took care of Jackson when the pain was at its worst, would hold his hand and run his fingers through Jackson's hair and reassure her boy, and it seemed to work. She could see it in Derek's eyes, devotion, and that slowly steady pulse of red. It made her wonder if maybe it was too soon too fast. Jackson was young, most people didn't find their mates for years, maybe it would be best to discourage Derek, let Jackson experiment for a while before finally settling down. She knew that wasn't fair to Derek or Jackson, he might miss a few flings here or there but what he would gain was a lifetime of happiness and contentment.

Over Jackson's head floated his crown, pale and see through, like a piece of cut glass, it lost its heavenly glow. Mrs. Whittemore had heard stories that when angelics neared death their halos would slowly fade out of existence, seeing her sons floating there with no glow made her realize how close she had come to losing him. Every time Derek would pet Jackson and reassure him, his halo would release a pale pulse of light. Mrs. Whittemore went down stairs into the kitchen and made a vegetable omelet and some dry toast with butter. She set that on a try with orange juice and a glass of water and brought it all up to Jackson's room.

"I made you something to eat," she said and placed the try on the floor in front of Derek, the room was dominated with Jackson's wings and anything that had been placed on high surfaces had been knocked down in his frantic flapping, "see if you can get him to eat some toast and drink some water. Also, try and get some sleep in the spare bedroom."

"Thanks…I'll just sleep in here," he said before continuing to hold Jackson's hand in his own, Jackson halo pulsed weakly and he whimpered in his sleep. Derek reached out and wiped the tears off his face and Mrs. Whittemore walked out of the room glad that some would be there to provide for and protect her son.

Jackson spent the next three days in a stupor. Derek took care of him, comforted him, and talked to him. Jackson came back to his senses on Thursday, he was still in pain but it had dulled enough that it allowed him to think. He lay in bed and whimpered and bit his lip as another bout of pain slashed down his back and brought tears to his eyes. He flinched when Derek touched his forehead, wiped the hair out of his sweaty face with his hand.

"Its okay, it's just me," he cooed and wiped Jackson's face with a cold wet washcloth.

"My back," was all Jackson was able to whimper out.

"I know, your wings manifested a few days ago. It'll hurt for a while but I'll help you through it." Derek took Jackson's hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze, Jackson closed his eyes and tried to rest.

Derek filled a syringe with the pain killers that Deaton had finally brought over. He turned Jackson's hand and exposed the wrist, he massaged the flesh and aligned the needle with the blue vein there and pushed it in and depressed the plunger. He watched as Jackson's face slowly slacked from the pain filled contortion to a peaceful blank, he just lay there with a far off look in his eyes. They were very good drugs apparently.

Jackson awoke Friday and felt numb all through his body. His head was twice as large and floated over the bed. He was fucked up, he could tell from the few times he'd actually done drugs. His limbs were balloons that were attached to his body by strings and moving them took all his concentration. Saturday he woke up in pain, but had control of his body again. He struggled up and off the bed, fought through the pain and stood up and nearly fell face first on the ground, he wasn't used to the weight of his new wings. He spent the day moving his new appendages, getting used to them. His back still ached terribly but Jackson was able to fight through it, mostly. He sat roughly on the bed and breath through the nausea that spun in his head.

He slowly stretched his wings out and struggled through the pain until they were fully extended, then he stretched them slightly further, and felt a muscle in his back spasm. He cringed in pain and bit his lip hard enough to draw blood. He lay back down on the bed and closed his eyes. Derek walked back into the room and touched Jackson's forehead.

"How do you feel," he asked and placed a piece of toast and a glass of water next to his head. Jackson just grabbed the toast and ate. Derek brought out another syringe and filled it with the painkillers he grabbed Jackson's wrist and turned it over. Jackson realized what he was doing and quickly pulled his arm away.

"I don't want that shit, it fucks me up…I just want to stay awake,"

"You're in pain,"

"I know, but…I don't want to take them," he looked at Derek with the most pitiful puppy eyes he could muster, and watched Derek melt.

They spent the day sitting in his room while Derek talked about what had happened around town. Apparently there was a serial killer on the loose, targeting spirituals only, stealing their magic along with their lives. When Jackson disappeared they were all afraid he'd become another victim. Jackson explained that when he went on his jog his back started to itch so intensely he had to stop to scratch it against a tree trunk. All he remembered was being knocked over by a pain so intense it had him screaming at the top of his voice as the flesh of his back split open and his wings sprouted out. He passed out. When he came to he was disoriented and full of pain, he stood and stumbled through the woods and fought hard to make it back to his house.

Derek sat by his bed and yawned wide and stretched his arms over his head.

"Sleep with me, I mean…why don't you get in bed with me," asked Jackson sheepishly.

"I don't want to hurt you," said Derek. Jackson slowly struggled out of bed as Derek hovered and tried to get him to lie down again, he didn't want Jackson to hurt himself.

"Lie down first," said Jackson, "I'll lie on top of you."

Derek thought about for a second before taking off his pants and his shirt and lay down in the bed, over the covers. Jackson slowly lowered himself over Derek and placed his head on the older mans shoulder. He sighed, it was nice, Derek was warm and heated his cold flesh. Derek brought his hands slowly up Jackson back and rubbed the sore muscles. Jackson bit his lip, it hurt, but also felt good. Derek stopped when he heard Jackson whimper, instead he brought his hand to Jackson's head and pulled the boy closer to him, they both slept.

Sunday was good, Sunday meant a warm pair of arms around his waist and strong hands rubbing up and down his back, his finally not in excruciating pain back. Jackson stretched his wings as far as they would go, so far they shook with the strain and sighed when he released them. Jackson snuggled closer to Derek and enjoyed the peace of the morning. Derek rubbed his hands up and down Jackson's back and slowly circled the flesh around his wings easing all the muscles that strained and had caused him all the misery of the past week. His flesh had knit back together and left twin white scars running down his back. Derek tipped Jackson's head up and kissed him good morning.

Derek helped Jackson into the bathroom then, watched as Jackson brushed his teeth, Derek thought he need a bath so he waited while the tub filled with water. After much maneuvering Jackson was able to bend his wings in such a way that allowed him to actually sit in the tub. Derek stepped out while Jackson washed his body of all his misery until he was left feeling new. He called Derek, who helped him out of the tub, and then dried while Derek turned his back, Jackson's face burned through the whole process. Derek handed him some underwear and pants, which Jackson stepped into.

"You have to clean your wings now," said Derek and Jackson had no clue how to do it, neither did Derek. Jackson pulled out his angelic biology book and read the section on hygiene. He bent his wing in front of him and slowly smooth out all the feathers that had been rumpled while he slept and was surprised to see that there were a lot. It was the strangest sensation of his life, smoothing his feathers straight, they were still too sensitive and stung badly, but nothing in his life had prepared him for the feel of the foreign limbs.

He then read in the book that he needed to rub oil over the feathers to keep them flight ready and waterproof. Apparently he had oil glands now. Jackson recognized these, they were the secret angelic g-spot. He tried bending his wings and reaching back but he couldn't seem to be able to even touch them. The book said the angelic grooming was an activity that needed to be done within the family because the oil glands couldn't be reached by an individual. It also made clear that no one other than a family member should touch the oil glands. Angelic oil was used in their marriage ceremonies and was the catalyst that sealed the bond between two souls for eternity. Apparently, demonics mark by scent, by rubbing their bodies all over their mate until they smelled like them, which Jackson realized was why Derek was so into cuddling, angelics on the other hand marked their mates with oil which gives out a pungent scent as well as a magical deterrent, though the book didn't specify what that was or meant.

Derek watched Jackson struggle with something, he didn't know what. "Do you need my help," asked Derek and watched as Jackson blushed terribly and shook his head no, Derek was going to have to read that book sometime.

Jackson sighed, he'll just do it later. He went downstairs with Derek and watched as the older man made him breakfast. It was strangely domestic for the both of them. Jackson wasn't used to being doted on and Derek wasn't used to caring for anyone other than himself, they both enjoyed it more than they thought.

Jackson was used to taking care of himself, as an only child he had to, his parents were at work for most of the day so he played with himself, feed himself, kissed his own boo boos, and tucked himself into bed. His parents tried getting him a nanny but Jackson hated having someone hover over him constantly, telling him what he could and couldn't do, no, Jackson always put a stop to that. His parents were surprised to find that none of the nannies ever stuck, Jackson always seemed to scare them away, which as a child actually kind of hurt Jackson's feelings, though he would never tell anyone that. His parents made it up to him by buying him expensive gifts, which if Jackson was honest, he fucking loved. So having Derek take care of him was a feeling he wasn't used to, it made him both giddy and nervous.

Derek had never met anyone he had cared about. After his family had been killed in a fire, intentionally set by an anti-demonics group, Derek swore he would never care for anyone again. The pain of losing his family was like nothing Derek even knew, it hurt so bad he didn't know how to go on living himself. He was lost and alone and didn't have any strength left to fight, to live. But he did, and he rebuilt his house, he saved his uncle, and now he was rebuilding his name, and maybe if Jackson wanted…his family.

Jackson spent the rest of the day outside stretching his new wings. His parents floated around, they were loathe to leave him. Derek called Scott and Danny over to see Jackson alive and well, Jackson wasn't too happy about that but allowed it. Jackson called Stiles over and he brought his dad, and suddenly they were having an impromptu barbeque. The Sheriff and Jackson's dad grilled the meats while Scott tried to get his mom to leave work early to come over. Jackson and Stiles passed balls to each other with lacrosse sticks. Stiles had to go easy since Jackson was still in pain, Danny and Scott joined in and they all actually had fun together. The night was long and cool, they ate and celebrated the life that was still with them.

That night after everyone left Jackson sat with Derek on his roof. Ever since he'd learned to fly the roof had become a sort of sanctuary for Jackson. He could look up at the sky and the white cold moon and just be, he wanted to share that feeling with Derek. They held hands and were unsure of themselves but Derek enjoyed the feeling of the strong hands in his own, and enjoyed seeing Jackson wear his ring, it would tell other demonics to stay away.

"So," started Jackson and showed the ring to Derek, "you made this the first day you saw it didn't you, my armor, it's why you had it so fast,"

"You…were the most amazing thing I'd ever seen. You were so…beautiful. I don't know why, but I couldn't forget the way you looked, glorious and shinning and all... I guess…I guess I fell in love then…So, what do you remember about that first night, I mean, I know it must have been painful, this whole experience for you has been so painful…" Derek wished he could have done anything to spare Jackson that pain.

Jackson laughed though, "I remember talking to people about a bunch of bullshit, I remember Jennifer looking at me like she always does. I remember the food, it was delicious, the lamb was amazing and the mash potatoes were good. I remember that spicy red shit next to the salad…and that's it…"

"I remember those things, even Jennifer…but what was the red thing you're talking about,"

"You know, the pasty thing"

"I didn't have a red pasty thing…I don't think anybody did…"

"It was totally there, it was so fucking spicy. I thought my mouth was on fire."

Derek actually remembered now, he had seen the red paste next to Jackson's salad. Jackson was the only one who had it, Derek assumed his mother had put it there especially for him. Now Derek wondered…There were certain herbs that could only be eaten by spirituals and were poisons to regular humans and amongst those there were herbs that could only be eaten by demonics and were poisons to angelics and vice versa…He'd have to ask Mrs. Whittemore about it later.

Jackson stood up and stretched his wings, it was strange having something feel both natural and unnatural. He wanted to test them out, to soar high up in the sky, so he stretched his wings out to their full length and snapped them down and felt as he rocketed straight up. It felt different with his wings manifested, all the sensations he could feel before were intensified ten fold, but that somehow made flying easier. He flapped hard and high and when he cut through the clouds he turned and fell to the ground face first. When he reached his house he outstretched his wings and slowly floated down to the roof. Derek stood there mouth gaping open, eyes wide and awestruck and Jackson was suddenly embarrassed. He'd forgotten how rare flying was amongst angelics. He felt his wings wrap around himself in a self conscious gesture. Derek walked up to him and opened his arms Jackson laughed and shook his head but opened his wings and stepped into Derek's embrace.

"You really are the most amazing person I've ever met…but I need you to do one thing…I want you…to be nicer to Scott," Jackson laughed hard until he was left breathless and clinging to Derek, who laughed back. "I'm serious…"

"I know, it's cute, but no." Derek groaned but hugged Jackson tighter and then kissed him deeply and thoroughly, took the younger mans breath away and felt Jackson's wings tickle the back of his neck as they wrapped around him. The sensation was incredible, the feathers were the softest thing he had ever felt, like running water, or flawless silk, they sent shivering shocks across his flesh and had him hard in an instant. He deepened the kiss and slid his hands up Jackson's back, felt the soft silky curtain tingle his arms, until he reached the place where the wings attached. He circled his hands around the flesh there and slowly touched the wing joints, buried his hands in the soft downy feathers, and felt Jackson go limp in his arms, nearly falling over.

"I'm sorry," Derek held Jackson close and thought he'd hurt him, but he hadn't. He'd accidentally touched the oil glands and Jackson nearly came then and there, the sensation was powerful and so unexpected it nearly knocked him out.

"Jackson, you need to go to bed," said Mrs. Whittemore shocking both men, "Derek I'm sorry but you have to go home, you can try and defile my son on another day, he has school tomorrow." She stood there and watched as Derek jumped off the roof and slowly walked out of the back yard, every few steps he'd turn back and wave. Jackson watched and waved back each time until Derek was in his car and gone. His mom was still waiting for him to get back into is room, which he did. As he lay on his stomach ready to sleep he wondered how the fuck he was supposed to put a t-shirt on the next day.

Charlie ran, breathless and flailing down a forest path. Behind him followed someone in a black hoodie, chased him down like a dog with a scent, a lion about to pounce on its prey. Charlie didn't know what had happened, one minute he was jogging, the next, someone was on top of him and stabbing him with a knife, sunk the blade over and over into his torso. He was able to throw the person off, but only briefly. He ran for his life and wondered how this could have happened to him. He'd heard the news, about a mass murderer, but never thought he'd be a victim, and as his foot caught on a root and brought him face down on the ground, he wished and regretted all the things he'd done in his life, every little mistake, every thing he never got to do, and as the person grabbed him by the hair and lifted his head, he thought of the nothing but life and survival and the voice inside his head that told him to fight. The stranger plunged the knife deep into Charlie's neck and slit it ear to ear. The stranger pushed their hand against Charlie's chest and drained him of magic and being. The last thing Charlie saw was the thick pool of slick red that poured out his neck and over his hands, and the flash of ruby red hair as it spilled out of the hood of the stranger that was ripping the life out of him, his self, and being.

Jackson walked through school Monday morning and felt everyone staring at him. His mom had actually gone out and bought him some special shirts with wing holes in them and both his parents had to help him into them, his wings were just too fucking big he couldn't do it alone. He was completely embarrassed by all the looks, but Stiles helped him get through the day by acting like nothing was new, like he hadn't been missing for two days and bid ridden for a week. He told Jackson that newly manifested wings couldn't be hidden for at least a month, maybe more depending on the person, Jackson hated that, he wanted to hide them instantly. His wings made school nearly impossible, he couldn't sit in a desk because his wings were too long and had to stand in the back of the classroom as most his teachers gave lectures because other students couldn't see, he couldn't even take notes. But the teachers excused his absence from the week before and gave him a pass on all the work.

During lunch Scott invited Jackson and Stiles to eat with them, back at their table, Jackson's table, it was a peace offering. Jackson looked at Stiles and the boy nodded, so they went. Jackson sat at the head, less out of habit now, and more out of need, his wings would have blocked the path behind him. As the others ate Jackson preened, it was more natural now, in fact it was involuntary, the others noticed but didn't say anything. Allison squeezed Scott's hand, she found Jackson's preening to be adorable, much to Scott's annoyance, he let go of her hand and instead leaned in to talk to Danny about some stupid thing Jackson couldn't be bothered to hear. Allison looked hurt.

After school in his angelics class all the students were buys asking Jackson questions about his manifestation, questions he really didn't want to answer. Deaton understood and told the students to mind their own business and the class went back to normal.

"Mr. Deaton can I ask you some…questions," Jackson had stayed after class wanting to talk to Deaton about certain aspects of angelic biology he still wasn't sure about. "Okay…umm…well I haven't been able to oil my wings and I don't know if I can ask other people for help…is this something that I really have to do."

"I can understand your concern and embarrassment, having someone touch you oil glands can be…intimate…but it can also be clinical. Hospitals offer services were they extract oil for you and give it to you in a bottle. You can also buy some devices meant to help you extract your own oil, though these don't work very well and I heard they can be quite painful. Those are really your only options, other than asking someone for help, you have to oil your wings though so make sure you figure something out."

Jackson had hoped to hear something more helpful, he was honestly too embarrassed to go to the hospital and have oils squeezed out for him. He knew it didn't have to be sexual, but after Derek barely grazing them, he didn't want to risk any accidents. He left feeling as if he'd accomplished nothing.

Demonics was a normal day until Derek slammed through the door making everyone in the room jump, even Peter. He had a book in his hand and he held it to his uncle who looked at him like he was insane.

"Why aren't you teaching this," asked Derek angrily and held the book out to Peter who read it.

"Oh that's easy, it isn't useful anymore,"

"How can it not be useful, this could save their lives one day,"

"Botany isn't something we have to worry about anymore, the government heavily regulates poisonous herbs, it has gone so far as completely destroying certain plants, driving them into extinction. The likelihood of anyone coming across these herbs is almost none."

"I don't know," said Derek feeling a bit let down, he had thought he had something. He knew he did. "Look Devil's Tea," he said turning to one of the books pages, "it was once the most popular tea amongst demonics. It's highly poisonous to angelics though, so what did the government do about it," Derek asked Peter, they both spoke as if they weren't in a classroom full of students.

"It outlawed it of course…I think…well I'm not sure...but I certainly don't know anyone who still drinks that stuff."

"My parents do," said Jackson interrupting the two men, reminding them that they were surrounded by students, "I've drank that tea since I was like five or something, its good, taste like fire," Jackson shrugged, he remembered that tea well, he had a cup not too long ago, he kind of loved the stuff.

"It's poisonous to angelics," repeated Derek through grit teeth.

"Well I've been drinking it my whole life so…" Jackson didn't know what Derek wanted him to say. The man just took a deep breath and walked out of the class.

Later that night Derek and Jackson were making out on his bed, Derek was lying on his back as Jackson held his arms over his head and kissed the man viciously. Derek didn't have a choice about fighting, he knew he couldn't, if he did he would hurt Jackson and his new wings and he couldn't live with himself if he did that. He also enjoyed the way the younger man was able to match his strength, not completely, but just about. Someone knocked on Jackson's door.

"Jackson—"

"What!"

"Son, we discussed this, no sex while your parents are in the house," Jackson didn't answer instead he growled loud and for second his halo flashed red.

"Will you just fucking leave!"

"Okay, okay, have sex shesh…" Jackson's father walked away from the door mumbling about joking and ungrateful children. Derek pulled his hands away from Jackson's.

"I better go…" Derek wanted to talk to Jackson's parents about the red paste that Jackson had on his plate on Christmas, he also wanted to ask them were they bought their Devil's Tea, he'd read online it was highly regulated by the government, like caviar.

Jackson growled again, "Fine, just go," he said with a scowl on his face.

Derek didn't understand, the night had started off well. Derek had climbed in through the boy's window around seven and had spent the past fifteen minutes making out with him, he didn't know why he seemed angry now.

"I don't know why you're angry. I have to talk to your parents, its important."

"Am I going to see you tomorrow?"

"I can't. I have work to do…I need to talk to another demonics—"

"What about the day after that,"

"…No I can't, I have to tutor some kid in magic that day,"

"So when will I see you again,"

"I don't know, when I'm not busy," Derek laughed, he didn't understand why Jackson was so suddenly interested in his work week. Derek was trying to rebuild his families standing in demonics society of Beacon Hills, it had once meant a lot to his mother and he wanted the Hale's to be remembered accordingly. That meant meeting upper class demonics for tea, luncheons, and dinner parties. Derek also tutored kids everyday, demonics paid him quite handsomely to teach their kids the things they need to pass into the next level of their demonics classes, they didn't care if their kids bothered to remember any of it.

Jackson sat on the edge of his bed and tried to smooth out some of his feathers, they wouldn't stay, they seemed a bit brittle but Jackson forced them into place.

"Are you mad at me…" Derek had no idea what was wrong with Jackson.

"Get out," he said.

"What I—"

"Get. Out." Commanded Jackson now, he looked angry, but underneath that Derek thought he saw some sadness.

"Jackson…I'll see you…later…" Derek left the room feeling like he had just made another huge mistake and he had no idea what it was.

He walked down that stairs and met Jackson's parents in the living room. They exchanged pleasantries and made small talk for a short while before Derek jumped in. He asked them if they remembered the red paste Jackson had eaten, they didn't. He then asked them where they got their devil's tea. Mr. Whittemore explained that he bought it in some shop in downtown LA. It was super expensive but they loved it and so did Jackson. Derek didn't want to alarm them but he thought someone had tried to poison Jackson on Christmas, to what means he didn't know, but he thought he knew what that paste was, he'd read in his spiritual botany book about a plant named 'Hells Tears', the plant that was once smashed into a paste to tip poisonous arrows several hundred years ago. The Whittemore's didn't know what to say. Derek left them and promised that he'd look into it more.

Jackson sat in his room and tried hard not to feel sad. He felt pathetic, but all he'd wanted to do was spend some time with Derek. He couldn't believe himself but he didn't want his relationship with the older man to revolve around just making out, yes it was mind blowing, but he wanted…more. He remembered he and Lydia used to stay up all night and just talk about their dreams, the futures they wished they had but knew they probably would never achieve. They'd spoken of the future they might one day share and had laughed and held each other and it had felt, at least at the moment, it had felt meaningful. But all the time he'd shared with Derek was short lived, they were never alone, they never really talked, there was always someone there, interrupting. Jackson just wanted one fucking date, one day alone with just him and Derek, were they could just talk, because if he was honest, he was falling head over heels for a person he barely even knew, all he had was an image of a man he had once worshipped as a child. But the only time he seemed to be able to get Derek to himself was when he was in pain.

Jackson brought his wings in front of himself, smooth out his feathers in a motion that had quickly become a nervous habit. He could tell that his feathers desperately need to be oiled, they were dried out and no longer smoothed out flat. He twisted and turned his new joints and stretched his arms so far back he thought they would pop out of their sockets. He was finally able to touch the joints, he looked for the tiny nub and with stumbling hands gave one of them a harsh squeeze. Oil poured out of like a faucet and covered his hands and his wing, pain shoot through him so horrible he fell on his floor, onto one of his wings twisting it painfully. He breathe for several minutes before finally lifting himself up from off of the floor. He cleaned the oil off his hands with his wings, spread the oil as far as it would go and was actually able to cover one of his wings thoroughly. He then did it one more time and again felt the horrifying pain from his inarticulate squeezing. He cried then, for reasons he didn't understand, as he spread the oil on his wings, and for some reason he felt desperately alone. His hands shook badly from the pain he had caused himself, he slept on his stomach and cried most of the night. He felt weak, he had no idea what was wrong with him, but he felt weak and pathetic. Most of the insecurities he was able to keep hidden away seemed to be rising to the surface and he didn't remember how to push them back down. He just didn't want to be alone anymore.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N- Sorry for the lateness of this post, I've been working on other stories and got a little distracted, I'm working on another Jackson/stiles story and might post it later. If you want to read the stories I've written since you can check out my live journal ( just search for ivebeensoniced or any of my stories, i'm trying to slowly post them there) thanks.

Derek's Week-

Derek spent all of Tuesday going to different luncheons and dinner parties. Derek was busy trying to reestablish his family's old business in town. He offered his magical services to those higher ups who needed either protection against magic or something more…offensive. He was also trying to see what demonics would sponsor him or give him loans that would allow him to reopen a magical shop in which he could base his business. Thanks to the Whittemore's, he was able to get more and more of those each day and soon he would have enough to rebuild his families old shop in town.

He met with heads of families and older matriarchs and patriarchs that had been around Beacon Hills as long as the Hale's had. Most remembered his family and Derek's tragedy well and were more than willing to help Derek rebuild his old business and rank in the community. Before the Whittemore's had decided to help him he couldn't even get a meeting with these people, now he was getting too many invitations, he had to get Scott to go represent him in a few much to the boys annoyance and Derek's concern.

He flirted with husbands and wives alike and got promises that they would talk to their respective spouses'. He flirted with first born sons and daughters and even ingratiated himself to the family pets. He did what he had to.

Wednesday was teaching day. He and Peter spent all day tutoring people of different ages in all subjects. Derek taught spell weavers the basic knowledge they would need to learn their craft, and Peter taught warlocks how to start a proper ritual, how to tell what items held what power and how it could be used to make their spells. Derek also taught basic potions craft since he had a better knowledge of it than Peter, he did own the botany book after all. Peter left around two to prepare his lessons for his demonics classes. Peter had been a teacher before the fire and demanded the position back after he'd recovered from it.

Wednesday night was his date night. He had promised certain demonics to have dinner with them and rather than spread them out all week he had them all on Wednesday. It was a logistical nightmare but people always gave him what he wanted in the end, a promise to sponsor his business for the foreseeable future. It wasn't Derek's fault if people often had the wrong idea when he agreed to these dinners. It wasn't Derek's fault if he flirted a little, it was all for the greater good, his one goal. Sometimes they touched him, he let them, sometimes they kissed him, and as long as he didn't kiss back it was okay.

This time Derek was meeting with the first born son of one of the more prominent demonics in town, his mother owned an herbalist shop that would make a great addition to his partnerships, his father owned a Camera shop. The kids name was Matt, he's okay, ordinary but strangely aggressive. He invited Derek to the local gay club. The scene wasn't one Derek is used to, but for his family he would do anything. It wasn't bad, they stood around the bar drinking, Derek ordered two beers, and they just talked. Matt talked about how excited he was to go to college, he wanted to major in photography, be an artist, Derek thought the kid had potential.

Later, they danced. Derek was a bit shocked how close and suggestive the kid moved, he was all gyrating hips and moving arms. He looked Derek in the eyes, like a challenge, and crowded into his space, pressed his body against Derek's and moved. Derek wasn't going to lie and say that something didn't stir in his pants, but…

They drank more, a lot more, and moved back to dancing. Derek allowed the alcohol to dull his senses and the music to move his body. If he kissed Matt hard and left red bruises on his neck, well it wasn't his fault entirely. If he allowed the kid to shove his hands down his pants and stroke him to fullness, well that wasn't his fault either, and if he dry humped the kid until he came in his pants and moaned his name, well…that might have been his fault. Then his mind went dark.

Thursday he cancelled all his plans, he had a massive hang over. The last thing he remembered was…something. Derek sighed, he pulled himself out of his bed and down into his kitchen and started to brew the strongest coffee his machine could handle. He took a long shower and scrubbed away at all the weird things on his body and the reek of stale liquor. He walked out in his boxers and down to the kitchen. He drank a glass of coffee, black, with a microwavable breakfast burrito, the greasiest thing in his fridge. It helped dull the burn in his stomach. He popped a few pills for the ache in his head and slumped on the couch to relax the rest of the day away.

Peter came home late in the evening and walked straight into the kitchen without acknowledging Derek. He started making some skillet fried chicken and walked into his room with the food. He didn't leave Derek any, so he microwaved another burrito and ate that on the couch while watching some action movie.

His phone vibrated around ten, it was a text from Jackson. Derek thought about looking at it but he didn't want to spend the rest of the night texting back and forward. He ignored it. An hour later someone was calling him, Jackson again, Derek sighed, he thought about it for a second before just letting the phone ring. He went back to his movie and fell asleep on the couch.

He was awoken early Friday morning by Peter who dropped a heavy book into his lap.

"Derek I thought you would have at least confronted me about that boy you brought over but obviously you're stupider than I ever thought."

"What…"

"The boy you fucked, here, there, on the sofa, he's in my class, in Jackson's class you should know, I won't make excuses for you, not about this, you've gone too far now." Peter shook his head and left. Derek was stunned, he hadn't…he couldn't have…except he did, and he was royally completely fucked.

He remembered then, bringing Matt home and throwing him on the sofa. Derek pinned the kid down and rubbed against him. The kid struggled, but it was only an act, something to turn Derek on, and it had worked. Derek tore his clothes off and had his way with him, and when he was done, he sent the boy away, had called a taxi for him at least, then passed out face first on his bed. He needed to fix things quickly.

He waited until late evening, for Peter to finish his lessons before he made his way to the school. He hoped to catch Matt and explain to him how little the sex had meant to him, they were never going to be anything, not even fuck buddies. What he found was the worst thing he could have imagined. Matt was leaning into Jackson, whispering into his ear with a large smirk on his face, his twin tails whipping behind him in his amusement. As if by some silent agreement most students stayed away from the two boys. He watched as Matt's smile spread into a full grin and Jackson face turned to stone, then he grimaced.

The only warning was the brief flash of red from Jackson's halo before he grabbed Matt by the throat and lifted him off his feet. Jackson slammed Matt against the wall with a snarl and held him there and watched as Matt clawed away at Jackson's hand trying to pry it off, Matt's face turned red then a deep shade of purple. It was Stiles who finally pulled Jackson away, Matt fell on the floor wheezing, a thick red bruise covered his neck. Jackson and Stiles walked away, Matt said one more thing, it meant nothing to everyone else, but it obviously meant something to Jackson, "He didn't think of you once."

Jackson looked at Stiles who sighed and shrugged. Jackson seemed to take that as some sort of permission. He grabbed Matt by a huge chunk of his hair as he tried to struggle away, and dragged him into a bathroom. He came out a few minutes later. Matt didn't come back out.

That was when Jackson looked up at Derek and scowled. Jackson's halo glowed a deep blood red and stayed that way. He turned and left with Stiles. Everyone in the halls began moving again.

Derek walked into the bathroom, he looked into the stalls but they were all empty. The windows were bared and impossible to break through. Then he heard something, a strange muffled moan. He looked up. Matt was tied to the ceiling, his twin tails had been used as roped and were coiled and knotted tightly around the hanging florescent lights. Thick cords of toilet paper had been wrapped around his mouth, hands, and feet. It took Derek and Peter an hour and a half to get him down. None of them saw the piece of paper in Matt's pocket, it was blank except for the black hand drawn onto it.

Jackson's Week-

Tuesday Jackson awoke with a painful twinge in his back. He was stiff and had difficulty lifting his arm and wing. It hurt, a lot, more than Jackson knew was good, he needed to get it looked at. He dressed slowly and called Stiles to drive him to the hospital. The drive was quite, Stiles kept shooting Jackson concerned looks, Jackson wasn't talkative or anything but he still joked around and spoke, now he didn't make a sound. Jackson didn't feel like talking, he still felt strange and didn't know how to deal with it.

The two boys sat in the waiting room while they waited for Jackson's doctor to call his name. Stiles read some women's magazine, an article about how to please your man and the ten ways to tell if someone likes you. Jackson sat and tried hard to ignore his pain and growing concern. Finally Jackson was called through, out of the waiting room and into an empty exam room, this time he waited alone. Finally his doctor walked in and read his chart as Jackson removed his shirt. He did his usual check up, tongue depressor, ear check, reflex tests, and finally finished by asking Jackson what was wrong.

"It's my wing…I fell on it hard last night and it really hurts now…I've only had it manifested for like a week."

"Okay let me take a look," the doctor rolled down his sleeves and put on a fresh pair of latex gloves. He asked Jackson to lie down and then asked him to move his wings in different positions. Jackson could do them easily with one wing but not the other, it was stiff and pulled painfully. The doctor touched his back and followed the path of his new wing muscles to a spot were they were bunched together pulled tight.

"Well you've pulled the muscle here quite bad, what were you doing?"

"I…I was trying to oil my wings…"

"Alone?"

"Yeah," Jackson felt like an idiot, he knew he was being stupid when he insisted on oiling his wings alone, but he couldn't ask anyone else. The doctor clicked his tongue but didn't chastise, he was an angelic himself and could understand the embarrassment of having someone else oil your wings, especially when someone like Jackson had to go out of his family to get help.

"Okay, since you're here want us to extract a bottle of oil? It usually last a few months, your wings are big though so it'll probably last less than that." Jackson thought about it and decided he at least needed to do it once, no matter how embarrassing he thought it would be.

The doctor had Jackson sit in a special chair, basically a massage chair, and called in an assistant. Together they slowly bent Jackson's injured wing and asked Jackson to try and keep from flapping, his extended wings were bigger than the exam room and any flapping would knock everything around. The doctor pulled on special gloves used when extracting oils and then got out a long thin bottle, almost like a miniature wine decanter, and then he buried his fingers into Jackson's wing joint. Jackson was trembling and sweating, he was scared now, and as the doctor found his oil gland and gave it a gentle squeeze he realized why. Horrific pain shot through his wing, he screamed, the assistant held him down as he tensed up, his wings gave a lazy flap before pulling painfully into himself, the doctor squeezed the gland until it was completely empty of all oil and moved on to the other. Out in the waiting room Stiles flinched when he heard Jackson yell and wondered what the fuck was happening back there, most people in the waiting room became incredibly concerned.

The doctor finished and placed the oil bottle inside a wooden box, oils were held in decorative bottles and protected with wooden boxes, usually families passed down bottle and box down the generations, Jackson didn't have any angelic relatives, so the doctor gave him the generic ones the hospital had. He wiped his hands down and burned his gloves, his assistant did the same. Both were shocked by Jackson's reaction and the doctor couldn't help feeling like he'd violated the poor boy. He got a new pair of gloves on and wrapped Jackson's injured wing into a sling to allow it to rest. Jackson just sat as he came down from the whole experience. He dressed slowly, the assistant helped him get his wings into his shirt. He finally made his way out of the doctor's office with a prescription for pain killers and his extracted oil in the wooden box. Stiles stood up and together they walked out of the office.

"Do you want to go to school, or maybe fill that prescription so you can take some now, or we could go find a diner and just hang out for a bit and eat…?" Stiles had no idea what to do, Jackson looked wrecked. Jackson just nodded and let Stiles do what he felt like. They ended up at a diner, Stiles ordered a bacon cheeseburger and Jackson ordered a strawberry milk shake. As time passed he felt better, his back still hurt but the pain from the oil gland squeezing had slowly faded away.

"Hey…you okay?" Stiles was worried, "You know I could hear you all the way back in the waiting room…"

Jackson laughed and shook his head, "Yea…I'm okay. I just…I asked them to extract some oil for me…I don't really have anyone who can help me…and it hurt."

"Why don't you just ask your parents for help, my dad helps me oil my wings,"

"My parents wouldn't really know what to do…"

"Dude, my dad's a demonic and he knows what to do."

"Yeah but…he helped your mom right?'

Stiles smiled, "Yeah I guess he did."

They filled Jackson's prescription and went to his house and spent the rest of the day playing video games. Jackson went to bed early and rested.

Wednesday Allison and Scott broke up, it was brutal. It happened in the cafeteria in front of most of the school. Allison was actually the one who dumped Scott, she was tired of being ignored and left behind for Danny. She told Scott if he wanted to be with Danny then he should have just said and they could have broken up long ago, instead Scott had decided to string Allison along like some idiot, which was just cruel. Scott turned red and denied her accusation, blamed her for their problems and said that at least Danny understood him. Danny stood off to the side looking sheepish and guilty. It was obvious Allison was right, Scott and Danny were fucking. Stiles looked miserable and Jackson was pissed about it. As if to insult Allison with one last act, Scott grabbed Danny and kissed him deeply. Allison didn't react, she just shook her head and walked away.

Danny pushed Scott off angrily and walked away and out of the cafeteria, he didn't want to be used by someone like that, as a petty insult. Stiles took deep breathes before just running away. Jackson followed him into the locker rooms, found the boy crying on the floor, head on his knees. Jackson sat next to him and let Stiles cry for a while before wrapping an arm around him and brining him into a tight hug. They staid like that until the other had calmed down. They sat there longer than was comfortable for Jackson, his wings where hitched high up his shoulders and the strain caused him pain, but for his best friend he would endure.

"Hey…hey," Jackson nudged Stiles' shoulder until the boy looked at him, "I know you don't want to hear this but…you're too good for him."

Stiles laughed, "You don't know him like I do, we grew up together. I've seen him at his worst and he's seen me at my worst and we were always there for each other…Until Danny…" Stiles wiped the tears that slipped down his cheek and tried hard to recompose himself. "I always thought that Scott would one day look at me…finally see me and realize that we could be more…we could have been more…I guess…" Stiles squeezed his eyes shut tight as the pain in his chest grew too great. Jackson grabbed Stiles' hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.

"You're right I don't know Scott the way you do. All I ever see is a boy who complains about all the things he doesn't have and does nothing to get them. He had you all to himself for eighteen years and if he didn't see what he had right underneath his nose…well, that just makes him stupider than even I thought he was. Don't worry," Jackson threw his arm over Stiles' shoulder, "we'll find you someone who sees you for you and won't be able to look away. We'll find someone who'll see past your bullshit and all the little lies you tell yourself and the people around you and they'll see the you that no one else does, the real you…we'll find someone, we will." Stiles was surprised, he didn't know Jackson was such a romantic, he wondered how he ever hated him before. Stiles would get over it, with Jackson in his corner how could he not.

The next day Stiles and Jackson ate lunch in the schools quad and avoided Scott and all his drama. Allison was with Lydia sitting near by, they were clearly planning Scott's brutal death, or just doing what girls do to help each other through a work out. Scott's break up and subsequent big gay kiss was the talk of the school. Jackson just wanted to avoid it for Stiles' sake but found it nearly impossible.

Jackson enjoyed sword play that evening even though his arm still hurt and his wing was still stiff, but swinging the familiar weapon around calmed him in a way nothing else did. He hadn't seen Derek since Monday and wanted to talk to the man, to flesh out the details of what they were doing because Jackson still wasn't sure. He wanted to go out on a date, he wanted to talk, he wanted to spend _any_ time with him, but Derek was occupied. Jackson wondered if would ever stop being occupied, if Jackson would one day mean more to him than his stupid little goal.

Jackson waited until that night to text Derek. All it said was, 'hey how r u doing', Jackson waited. Derek never texted back, but in that time Jackson went from giddy happiness to deep hurt anger. Apparently, Derek couldn't even take five seconds away from his busy life to text him an 'ok ttyl". He tried calling, but that went ignored as well.

Out of frustration and as a way to distract himself from the inner hurt and loneliness Jackson read his uncle's journal, the old one. He had lived in the eighteen hundreds and was a member of America's first angelic military unit. He fought in the Mexican American war and was there when they won California. He wrote about the barren landscape and the baking sun. He wrote about Native Americans and Mexicans and the strange magic they used and a hundred different things that had Jackson quickly enthralled.

He was a sorcerer like Jackson, and also like Jackson was the only angelic in his family. When the war started Jackson's uncle had been a prospector far north and had made a small fortune looking for gold, he traveled south to join the fighting against the Mexican army, an effect of manifest destiny and early American exceptionalism. He described the drastic change in scenery as he rode a horse south, he couldn't fly like Jackson. He wrote how the land went from wooded forest to dead desert, from mountainous and high ridges to flat and sunken land. He wrote that the California dessert winds picked up billowing clouds of dust and sand and how all that debris would lodge deeply into his wings and in between his feathers and cause itching and chaffed pain. He was never taught to preen properly, what he did he learned himself, and so he didn't know how to get sand out. He had to ask angelics he passed and learned quickly that the best way to get sand and dust off his wings was to give them a hard shake before letting them soak in water for over an hour and then to slowly run his fingers through every feather and every place he could reach, it literally took all day and it only lasted for an hour at best.

He wrote about oiling his wings and how badly it hurt to do it by himself, once he joined the army he just had the doctor do it for him, he didn't talk about any pain like Jackson had experienced. But when he meet a girl, an angelic, and they decided to date, she helped him groom and the experience became something intimate and amazing. They married after the war had been won and had children, oddly enough they were all demonics.

Jackson put the journal aside and wondered if he would ever get to experience something so intimate, if he would ever meet someone and start a family. He closed his eyes and pushed those thoughts out of his mind, he was far too young to worry about family when he still had no idea what he would do with his life. He knew he wanted to do something good, something were he could use his fighting and his magic and help the people around him. Jackson wanted to mold the world into a place he actually wanted to live in and he wanted to do it with his own bare hands.

Friday Jackson smelled it. He had never noticed it before, never needed to, but he could smell it then sitting in demonics class. At the back of the school was the smell he often dreamed about and everyday knew better and better, it reeked of Derek, leather and the odd ozone smell of magic. He stopped noticing it because that same smell covered him, but there was Matt, wide grin on his face, twin tails swing left and right and reeking of leather and ozone. Jackson wondered if the other demonics in class had smelled Derek on him the entire time, he wondered if they could smell Matt with the same scenting mark. Jackson knew exactly what it meant and it hurt, deep down in his chest, but he ignored it. Class was tense, Peter kept giving him pitying looks and Jackson fucking hated it, he scowled all through class as he tried controlling the rolling rage that was simmering inside him, growing in intensity the more he smelled Derek on someone else.

In the back of his mind Jackson understood that the anger he felt was his angelic instincts fighting to take control. It was normal for demonics to mark different potential mates before they all fought to see who was strongest, that was the person that got to mate. But when angelics made a mark, a claim for a potential mate, they fought any person who would dare try and claim them as well, to steal their mate, often to the death. Derek might have marked Jackson, but Jackson had marked him as well, at least in his mind he had. It made him want to rip Matt apart for even daring looking at someone that Jackson had claimed.

When class ended Jackson packed his bags and left quickly, he wanted to find Stiles and leave. While waiting in the hall he smelled it again as Matt slowly approached him. He had a smile on his face as if he knew some deep dark secret or had some really juicy gossip.

"So Jackson, what did you do this week?" Asked Matt, innocently, with that annoying smirk.

"Nothing, why," Jackson wasn't in the mood for this game, he was already angry and just wanted to finish with whatever Matt thought he was doing.

"I went out on a date with Derek two nights ago, he fucked me so hard I had to skip school yesterday, that man is brutal, left me sore, but you know all about that don't you…oh wait you don't do you. I wonder why," Matt smirked and crowded into Jackson's space.

Matt knew Derek well, more than even Derek was aware of. Matt obsessed over Derek and stalked the man for most of his teenage life, since he had hit puberty and realized he was bi. His camera was full of candid pictures taken of Derek through town, in his car, his house, anywhere and everywhere. Matt had asked Derek out repeatedly for years, Derek always said no. But the day he smelled his odor, the smell Matt often thought of, imagined covering him, and it was on Jackson, all over him, he was furious. Not only had Jackson once again received what he wanted, to be a spiritual, he'd also seduced and stolen Derek away from him. Matt would do anything to take him away, so he asked him and to his surprise Derek had said yes. Then it was all about getting him drunk enough he wouldn't, couldn't, say no, and it had all worked like a charm. He hadn't expected the way Derek had brutalized his ass and fucked him like an anime, he also hadn't expected being kicked out immediately afterwards, but Matt was a demonic, not some sensitive angelic like Jackson, he could take it.

"It's funny, I could have sworn you two were going out…but I guess not, I mean he fucked me, has he even touched you?...Do you really think a demonic like Derek could love an angelic like you, _you're not good enough for him_. Your just a fucking brat who always get what he wants, you think your-" Matt hadn't expected Jackson sudden and powerful attack, the slam against the back of his head made him see stars and the hand around his throat crushed his flesh and cut off all air. Matt was stupid, he'd been made a fool in front of Derek, who he had seen approaching, he didn't know about angelics and their culture, the way they killed potential mate stealers, not just hurt, so he spewed a few more poisonous words. Jackson saw red, he wanted to hurt Matt as bad as the boy thought he was hurting him, he turned to Stiles, who nodded, he was mostly angelic himself and couldn't deny what his own instincts told him. So Jackson took Matt into the bathroom and tied him to the ceiling, and then he took out a sheet of paper and drew onto it his curse, he poured his dark thoughts into the black hand and slipped the paper into the boys pocket before walking out.

Jackson saw Derek then and all he could feel was pure anger and rage. He walked away and Stiles led him to his Porsche, Jackson tossed him the keys he was too angry to drive. All he knew was that he wanted to get back at Derek, he knew it was petty, but he would make Derek feel the sting of losing him, of seeing him with someone else, and he hoped it would hurt the man as badly as it had hurt him.


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: I wanted to thank everyone reading and everyone who has reviewed. Please keep reviewing they're great so thanks!

Saturday morning Jackson pulled out the family magic book and flipped through the pages until he found the spell he was looking for. He remembered seeing it when he first flipped through the book and thinking it to be completely useless, but he needed it now. It was a simple spell, combined the power of a glamour, a little hypnosis, and everything nature had so graciously gifted Jackson with. He practiced in the mirror for a while, the spell centered in the eyes but used his whole face to make it happen. It was harder to do than Jackson realized, it took him a while before he felt he had it right. The only problem was that it only affected one person at a time, he had to hold eye contact for a while as the person fell under his spell. It shouldn't be a problem for him though, after all, seduction spells could usually be spread throughout a crowd, and he could learn to do it if he needed to.

He then spent the rest of the morning cleaning himself. First he took a long hot shower and scrubbed his skin with a rough loofah to get all the dead skin off, it left his skin soft, smooth, and lustrous. He used his best shower gel that left him smelling of clean pure soap instead of those cheap deodorant smelling ones. When he finished and dried off he pulled on a pair of boxer briefs and pulled out his uncle's journal. Jackson had seen a recipe for a deep cleaning solution for his wings. Jackson searched online and compared other people recipes to his uncle's and was pleased to find that they were basically the same, though used different ingredients. Angelics were all about all natural organic everything and his uncle's recipe fit right in.

Jackson went about his backyard preparing everything. He pulled out a lawn chair and set that in the shade, he then placed two large basins next to it. He pulled out all the ingredients he needed and threw them into each basin, luckily he had it all. His uncle had scented his cleaning solution with desert sage that once grew throughout all of southern California, Jackson had found some in the basement were his mother kept all the weird stuff they needed for magic and threw some into each basin. He then filled them with water and used magic to heat it up into a nice boil before using magic to cool it down. He sat in the chair and removed the sling off his wing before slowly dipping them in the liquid.

Jackson laid there and allowed the solution to clean his feathers in a way Jackson never could. The solution tingled his feathers with suds and foam, sent chills down his back. He stayed there for an hour and just enjoyed the peace and quite, and absolutely kept his mind clear of anything and everything, he didn't think of a certain demonic and what he was planning, instead he dived deep into his grace and enjoyed the presence there, the pure feeling of unconditional love that Jackson hoped to find in his life. He fell asleep and dreamed of desert islands, the blazing hot sun and the cool white sand, he dreamed of the ocean spray in his nose and face and felt the cool waves lap over his body soaking him and his wings.

Derek was furious, fucking Matt and his fucking big mouth had to go and brag to fucking Jackson. He knew he was deflecting, it was all his fault, he should never have drunk, that was his number one rule, never drink, never get drunk, but he had broken it because Matt was just a kid and he didn't see the date heading anywhere. He had some how become so plastered he thought it was a good idea to fuck some kid he didn't even like when he was still trying to properly court one he did. The worst part was Derek had no clue how to fix it, no clue where to start and the look Jackson had given him…Scott talked about the boy all the time, talked about what an asshole he was and Derek knew that Jackson would not take what he did quietly, he would do something and Derek wasn't going to lie and say he wasn't worried. He remembered that Jackson had once planned on destroying his family name, destroying all the work he had done, Derek had thought it was a joke, now he was afraid that that plan was back on track.

Derek sighed and dumped a giant loud of laundry into the washing machine and added a cap full of detergent. He pushed start and watched the machine rattle to life, he went back to his living room and plopped down on his couch and groaned.

"Your not going to get him back just sitting there you know," said Peter as he watched Derek lay on the couch. "You can't just sit there without even trying, Jackson wouldn't…I don't even know how you allowed yourself to do something so stupid…"

"I was drunk…" Derek knew the answer was lame, but it was all he had.

"You don't normally get that drunk…"

"Well I did,"

"…and even if you had I doubt you would have brought that kid home…knowing you…you would have gone and found someone you actually liked…"

"Shut up Peter…I just…I need to think." Derek didn't need to hear every little mistake he made repeated to him, it was already repeating over and over again in his head. Peter gave him a look and walked away. Derek groaned and threw his arm over his face.

Jackson woke up slowly and languidly. The water lapping wetly at his wings was what finally got him out of his stupor, the feeling was uncomfortable and Jackson was actually cold. He lifted his heavy wings out of the basins and stood up. He stretched his wings out to their full span, and shook them as hard is he could. It hurt, he'd forgotten about his injured wing. He cringed and slowly closed his wings against him before heading up to his room. Jackson dried his wings with a bit of warm air he blew through his feathers using his magic, it left his wings fluffy and tickled immensely, he giggled through the whole process.

Finally, when his wings were nice and dry he pulled out the wooden box with his bottle of extracted oil and got to work. Jackson took his time and slowly oiled his wings from tip to joint, where they met with his back. It took all day; Jackson wanted to do the best job that he could. He used one fourth of the bottle oiling both wings, but he left the feathers shinning like polished ebony, for the first time Jackson noticed the way his oil made his feathers refract light, the way it swam across them leaving behind rainbow trails, like a pool of gasoline on asphalt.

Jackson was almost ready, all he had to do now was go out and buy and new outfit, one with wing holes, and he'd be ready.

Derek watched as Scott and Stiles practiced magic in his backyard. Scott was terrible at it, not surprising anyone. He was a wizard like Peter, but unlike Peter, Scott couldn't grasp the simplest of spells. Wizards keep an alter that allows them to access their magic and at these alters wizards perform rituals to create their spells. Spells have to be written out on a piece of paper and imbued with magic before being burned at the alter so it could be used. If the spell used more magic than a wizard had, a wizard could do a ritual that pulled more magic from either items that are burned or by collecting magic over time.

Peter had taught Scott that any spell burned at an alter was automatically at their disposal, if you could perfectly remember the words to your spell and repeat them out loud or in your head, Scott never remembered and his spells either failed or went horrible bad. Now he was trying to remember the words he had used to make a levitation spell, but all he was doing was exploding tiny pebbles into dirt. Stiles was busy reaching into his hybrid grace and bending magic to his will, he was sending rippling waves of life through the flowers in Derek's backyard bringing new buds out of the stems. Derek watched as they bloomed and released a pleasant aroma, it was impressive, Scott seemed annoyed that his friend was far better at magic than he was.

The two boys were trying to regain the friendship they once had shared and found it to be harder than they both thought it would be, neither wanted to take responsibility for the 'break up', so to speak, and neither was willing to leave the new friends they had made away from each other. Derek was sad to see the rift, the two boys had been friends since Derek could remember and to see the huge gap that had opened between the two saddened him, reminded Derek that almost nothing in the world lasts.

He finished putting the last of his clothes in the drier and plopped back down in his living room to wait. His door bell sounded and Derek reluctantly went to open it. It was Matt; he was standing on his porch in bloodied and torn clothes, large black bags stretched beneath his eyes. Matt looked completely scared out of his mind and when a group of dogs began to bark Matt freaked out.

"Please, can I come in, those dogs have been chasing me, they fucking attacked me, I don't even know why," Matt stammered as fast as he could, he could still feel the fangs as they broke through his flesh and just wanted to get away.

Derek sighed and allowed the boy in. He sat him on the couch and went for his first aid kit. Matt sat in Derek's house and casually looked around in an attempt to calm himself. Saw all the family pictures that were scattered around the house and was surprised to find the house to be pleasant. He'd always assumed that the old Hale house would be creepy but it wasn't.

Matt hadn't slept at all the day before, he was ravaged by horrible nightmares that he couldn't escape, he dreamed of snakes and lizards as they crawled in and out of his body, plunged through his chest and from out of his eye sockets, he dreamed of a pair of yellow eyes that followed him and hissed. Waking up had been worse, sometime during the night his room had actually caught fire. His room and everything he owned had been completely destroyed, but the house had thankfully been spared. His parents moved them into a hotel while the house was being cleaned and Matt's room rebuilt. Matt had decided to go on a walk to clear his mind when a pack of dogs chased him down before pouncing on him, they piled onto him snarling and biting, Matt threw them off and ran as fast as he could and ended up at Derek's house.

Derek came back into the room and dropped the first aid kit on the coffee table. He opened it and got out an alcohol pad and handed one to Matt.

"Clean your wounds," he said, Derek wasn't going to start being nice to the kid. Matt sheepishly began to rub the pad across his skin, wiping away blood and dirt.

"I need you to know now, whatever happened last time, it meant nothing. If I hadn't been drunk I would never had had sex with you, I will never again have sex with you, and what you pulled with Jackson destroyed any sympathy I had for you." Derek didn't beat about the bush.

In the kitchen Peter, Scott, and Stiles were listening by the door.

Matt sneered, "I don't even know why you like him…I've asked you out so many times and you don't even remember me, do you, remember me?…" Matt laughed, "but Jackson you what, fell in love on first sight, no that can't be it because no body fucking likes Jackson, he's an asshole. The only person who has ever liked Jackson was Lydia and she's a huge bitch herself," Matt snorted, "I can't believe this shit…I know you better than he ever will."

"I don't care how well you think you know me, I know myself enough that I wouldn't have had sex with you,"

"I doesn't matter now," Matt chuckled, "I've wanted you for so long and you never even looked at me, well, now Jackson won't look at you, not after what I did."

Derek growled, "What did you do Matt,"

"It was so easy…you didn't even notice. I knew you didn't remember me and that made me so _mad_…so I spiked your drink, with a lust potion I stole from my mom's shop, and it worked…after, all I had to do then was tell Jackson, make him break up with you...god only knows what crazy shit Jackson has planned for you, serves you right for using demonics the way you do, tricking them into sponsoring you and your nonexistent family," Matt smirked up at Derek completely proud of his little plan. Derek grabbed Matt by the back of his neck and dragged him to the door and threw him out.

"Let the dogs have you Matt cause I don't want anything to do with you," growled Derek as he slammed the door shut.

Matt picked himself up off the ground and wiped the dust from his jeans. He walked away from Derek's house and out onto the road. He walked slowly away with wounded pride and broken heart, he cried. All he had ever wanted was for Derek to acknowledge him, to look at him and see something, anything worth while, and Derek never did. It made him so angry, Matt felt that he deserved it, he deserved Derek and if he couldn't have him…

Matt listened closely for the sound of dogs but heard none. He walked slowly back the way he came and wondered what he would do now that he owned nothing. All his cameras, his pictures, his clothes, his memories were gone. Worst of all his comics were gone, he'd spent years collecting and buying them and now they were gone, up in flames, nothing left but black ash. He heard a noise, a screeching sound, he turned his head right before a car slammed into his side and sent him flying into the air. He landed in a heap of broken bones.

Jackson was ready to get his plan underway. He was going to make Derek regret ever fucking around on him by fucking as many people as he could. It was petty and stupid, but Jackson felt petty and especially stupid and hoped that this would hurt Derek as much as Derek had hurt him.

"Are you sure you want to do this…I mean you don't really know the whole story…maybe Derek isn't to blame—"

"Why didn't he talk to me all week, why did he ignore my calls and my text, why hasn't he asked me out on one fucking date, why hasn't he done all the shit people do when they say they like you! All we've ever done is make out, which yeah, is nice, but I want more than that. Me and Lydia had more than that and we both knew that our relationship wasn't going to go anywhere. So fuck all the excuses Derek might have, fucking Matt was just what made me realize that I'm wasting my time trying to pursue a relationship with someone who only likes me when it's convenient for them…" Jackson ended his rant out of breath and red faced, he was fucking pissed and needed Stiles' support. His friend hung his head and shrugged, Stiles was surprised by Jackson rant but not by what he said. Stiles knew that Jackson was fiercely loyal as a friend and could only assume that when he fell in love he gave his whole heart, it was no surprise to him that Derek didn't.

Jackson was decked out, his wings were polished and oiled to perfection and Stiles had to admit they were beautiful, they reminded him of his mothers, who had a feathers a shiny metallic silver. Jackson was dressed in a black polo with a hot pink collar tucked into black slacks and accessorized with black and pink pin stripped suspenders. Stiles was dressed in grey slacks with a green vest over a blue heenley. Together they head to the towns local gay club.

They arrived just as a line was forming outside and like usual Jackson walked right past the bouncer and into the club. This time he didn't hide his wings or his halo, he couldn't, though he did pull them tight against his body since he didn't want anyone touching them. He went to the bar and ordered two drinks and turned to the clubs interior. It was dark expect for the flashing colored lights sweeping across the dance floor. Packs of writhing bodies were everywhere, people were either dancing or making out, some might have even be doing the deed there in the open, the space was full of sexual tension and the smell of sweat.

He looked around and tried to find someone suitable, Stiles stood next to him looking worried. Jackson could understand why, Stiles didn't do things the way Jackson did, he didn't lower himself to other peoples levels, he wasn't petty, or stupid, and he wasn't an asshole like everyone said Jackson was. But Jackson wasn't any of those things either, he was vulnerable, he was scared, and he was lonely. It wasn't his fault that people sometimes saw those things in him and decided to make fun of him, tried to use his weaknesses against him, and it wasn't his fault if he made sure no would ever make fun of him again. Jackson had long ago created a mask that no one could see behind and he had almost shown Derek...

Jackson found him in a corner, a demonic sucking on a bottle of beer, pointy curved horns sticking out from the sides of his head, like a ram. He was tall, taller than Jackson by at least a foot, he was well toned, but not overly so. He was clad all in leather, riding leather, probably a biker looking to score some action. Jackson pulled on his grace, focused on the lust around him, the rolling uncontrollable animal instincts, and looked at the man. It took some time, but soon the demonic broke out in a light sheen of sweat, his heart rate picked up just slightly and he looked around the room until his eyes fell on Jackson and smiled. Jackson smiled back.

Stiles saw the way Jackson halo took on a greenish hue and wondered if the lights from the club were reflecting of it, he saw the same green light in Jackson's eyes but ignored it. Instead, he pulled out his cell phone and texted Derek. He knew Jackson would be angry at him, but Stiles had seen Derek's eyes the night Jackson had gone missing, Stiles had seen love and devotion and he knew he couldn't let his friend throw all that away.

It only took half an hour of small talk before Jackson had the demonic in the back alley making out. The great thing about seduction spells was that, once the biological functions of lust began, a person could let go of the spell and the lust would still be there. Jackson was distracted out of his thoughts when the demonic tried sliding his hands up to his wings, Jackson grabbed them roughly and lowered them before diving back into a fierce kiss.

The demonic loved it, he had always fantasized about being with an angelic, it was almost a fetish, and now he had one that liked to fight back and grind against him like a bitch in heat. It was too much, he wanted to feel the boy around his dick, to feel the muscles of his ass squeeze his seed out of him, but the kid kept pushing him back and away.

Jackson tried to get into it, tried to enjoy it, but couldn't. He hated it, he couldn't even go through with it. He growled and threw the demonic to the ground and headed back inside to find Stiles. He finally found his friends surrounded by a gaggle of drag queens telling horrible jokes and singing off key to some Britney Spears song. Jackson looked at him nodded to the side, Stiles got the message and made his farewells before following Jackson outside.

"What happened," asked Stiles, he didn't think Jackson would want to leave so soon.

"…I couldn't do it…" Jackson scoffed at his own weakness. "It doesn't matter…it was stupid anyways."

Stiles had never heard Jackson sound so defeated, it was kind of scary. They drove away from the club and Jackson dropped Stiles off at his house before heading to his own. He felt so idiotic, so immature, he put so much thought into something that didn't even matter. Why would Derek care if he slept around if he was doing it himself.

Jackson parked his car and made his way around the house to the back yard and through his back door. He slowly climbed the stairs to his room completely disappointed with the night and himself. He pushed the door open and stopped short, sitting on his bed reading a book was Derek.

"What are you doing here…"Jackson was surprised to realize he wasn't angry anymore, he was just tired, completely bone achingly tired.

"I wanted to talk to you," said Derek tossing the book aside and getting off the bed. Now that Jackson was standing in front of him he didn't know what he wanted to say, he just had to stop the boy from doing something stupid, from pushing him away. "Stiles told me you were going to fuck some random guy to get back at me…is that true?"

"Yes,"

"…did you?"

Jackson shook his head no, he walked to his closet and opened the door, unhooked his suspenders and hung them in their spot. He tried getting his polo off, it was tough, and Jackson realized how stupid he must look to Derek, but he was finally able to disentangle his arms from the shirt. He stretched his wings straight back and started slowly pulling it off. He heard Derek stand up then and grab the polo and slowly pull it off his extended wings.

Jackson suddenly and unexpectedly found his anger again, it was like blinding flash of electricity through his body. Jackson quickly pushed Derek, hard, knocking him to the floor, then Jackson launched himself at him, began raining punches down onto Derek's head as the older man blocked them with his arms. Derek grabbed Jackson's arm and twisted it hard and knocked Jackson backward. Jackson landed hard on his ass, on his injured wing, he was caught in complete pain and couldn't help let out a low cry. Derek was there in an instant asking what was wrong, Jackson couldn't answer, he was too busy biting his lip and keeping himself from puking.

Derek grabbed Jackson underneath his arm pits and pulled him up to his feet. He slowly lowered the boy onto his bed, stomach down. Without his shirt, Derek could see the bunched mass of pulled muscles on Jackson's back. He looked around the room and saw the wooden box, he grabbed it and pulled out the bottle of Jackson's oil. Derek uncorked the bottle and was instantly assaulted by an aroma so amazing it had him dizzy in seconds, his mouth filled with saliva and his pants got a bit tighter. He closed the bottle and took some time to just breathe. He took a deep breath and uncorked the bottle again, poured the oil onto his hand, it was thicker than Derek thought it would be and slicker than he'd hoped. Derek slowly rubbed his hand along the center of Jackson's back, between the wings, and up to the muscles around the wing joint. Derek thought the oil was warm in his hands, it scent a pleasing buzz up his arms and deep into his chest were he felt the warmth spread to the rest of his body. He massaged the muscles slowly but deeply and Jackson moaned from his ministrations. The whole thing was more sexual than Derek wanted it to be but _damn_ did he enjoy it.

"I know it's not an excuse and I know its not going to fix anything but Matt drugged me, I would never have had sex with him if I hadn't been under the effects of a spell…I don't know what I have to do to fix this, to make you trust me again…but I'll do it I'll do any—"

"Am I ever going to come first," interrupted Jackson.

"What,"

"Am I always going to come second place in your life, do I always have to hurt myself to get any attention from you, I just…I can't come second place in my own relationship…I just can't…" Jackson let the tears slip from his eyes, from the pain…He turned his head so that Derek wouldn't see him cry.

"I...I never thought…I've just been—"

"You haven't even asked me out on a date, we did everything backwards…I don't really know who you are, we've never talked, not really. I don't want to have a bullshit relationship like all the rest I've had, not with you, I'm tired of all that, I've already claimed you as my mate and angelics mate for life, we choose one and stick with them until it either works or it doesn't…and I don't know if this is going to work…" Some how Derek had become someone Jackson wanted to be with, wanted to maybe…spend the rest of his life with. But Jackson had relied on his instincts and the strange flurry of emotions the man seemed to summon in him to affirm his emotions and he knew now how stupid that was.

Rather than talk, Derek continued to massage Jackson's back until the boy went completely limp on the bed. Derek dipped his head and began leaving a trail of kisses from Jackson's lower back all the way up to his shoulders. Jackson shivered as Derek massaged the area around his wings before Derek slowly dug his hands into the joints and looked for the special gland he'd been reading about when Jackson walked into the room. He found it, he knew because Jackson moaned loudly and so seductively Derek knew he had to have Jackson, knew he couldn't let him go.

"I know I haven't been the best boyfriend, in fact I've been the worst. My family name once meant nothing to me, but it meant the world to my parents…doing what I'm doing is…its my way of honoring them…but…well my parents put my happiness before anything else in their lives and you make me happy…I think…I think they'd be disappointed in me if I let you go…so how about we make a deal. I will only devote three days of the week to my family business and the rest of the week I'll spend with you, only you." He massaged his fingers around the glands and felt the way Jackson quivered, it was unbelievably sexy. Derek licked his lips and tasted Jackson's oil and plunged deep into a near uncontrollable lust. He lowered his head to Jackson's back and began biting the sensitive flesh around the wing joints. Jackson bite his lip hard as rippling waves of pleasure ran through his body, when he felt Derek's tail tickle his back and plunge into his pants, he moaned loud. Derek straddled Jackson then and began to rut against him, he thrust his hard length between the cheeks of Jackson's ass, which was nicely framed by the tight slacks he was wearing. He could taste the oil, feel it on his body, feel the way it burned down into his skin and filled his mind, it was amazing. He flicked his fingers along the Jackson's oil gland, bite his back, and ground his hips against the boys ass. Derek wrapped his tail around Jackson's hard length, slicked with pre-come, and stroked. Neither lasted long after that, in their lust filled haze they came.

Allison sat in the waiting room with a cup of coffee in her hand. She was in the hospital waiting to find out if Matt was still alive. She had been driving earlier that day, Lydia wanted to go shopping and she was on her way to pick her up when she lost control of her car. The steering wheel was wrenched out of her hands, she tried hard to turn it but it was as if someone had wrenched it out of her hands and was now holding it with all their strength. That's when she heard the loud bang, she hit the brakes hard. She opened her door and there in front of her, in a mass of twisted and broken bones was Matt. Allison fell on her knees next to the boy, she was horrified, bile pooled in her mouth and with shaking hands she pulled out her cell phone and dialed 9-1-1. The paramedics and the police came quickly and she watched as they loaded Matt's shattered body into the ambulance. The police took her to the station and gave her a sobriety test before asking what happened. She explained what had happened, how her car had swerved uncontrollably and hit Matt. They were investigating now, looking at her tire tracks and testing her car while looking for harmful magic.

Allison went to the hospital cafeteria and bought three sandwiches, one for her and two for Matt's parents who were crying in the waiting room. They accepted the sandwiches but sent her home, they were grateful that Allison had come down to visit to make sure Matt was okay. Allison was surprised that they weren't angry at her, but Matt's parents knew that sometimes things happen, unexpected unexplainable things and Allison wasn't to blame.

She went home that night and cried, she almost killed someone, and in the dark of her room, alone and scared, she felt like she was dying herself.

Derek and Jackson lay naked on his bed. Jackson was on top of Derek, head pillowed on Derek's shoulder, face buried in Derek's neck. The older man had his arms wrapped tightly around Jackson's body and held him close. They were both asleep, so neither noticed the way Jackson's halo shone brighter than it ever had before. Derek had read most of Jackson's angelic book, read about angelic customs and practice and was surprised to see how much they varied from demonic ones. But what interested him was the section about angelic mating rituals, specifically the way angelics sealed the bond between each other by sharing oil, marking their mates as theirs, keeping away potential mate stealers with the threat of death. Derek knew that in order to keep Jackson with him he needed to seal their bond the angelic way as well as the demonic way. But everything demonic was temporary and bendable, they choose multiple mates and let them fight it out between them, angelics didn't do that, theirs was strict and infinite, and Derek did what he needed to so that Jackson stayed his and no one else's, no matter the consequences.


	8. Chapter 8

It was _so_ _soft_ and unbelievably smooth, like porcelain, or silk, or cashmere. Derek shook his head and chuckled, he was feeling clichéd, but Jackson's skin was the softest thing he'd ever touched, or maybe it had just been too long since he allowed himself to feel anything that wasn't rough and coarse, he indulged himself now. He ran his hand down Jackson's back, traced the long jagged scars his wings had torn through the boys body. Derek lowered his head and rubbed it against the flesh of Jackson's lower back, kissed and licked the smooth and raised scars, then moved all the way back up to the wing joints. He needed his scent all over Jackson's body, he couldn't risk leaving an inch without it, or at least that's what he used to justify his actions. The truth was he just needed to touch him, everywhere, to feel the boy and make him his. So he did.

It was still dark outside, but the room had a pleasant glow emanating from Jackson's halo that shown strong and bright. Instead of its usual bluish white hue it was a deep yellow orange, like the shinning sun. The actual sun was slowly poking its luminous head over the horizon lightening the sky, turning it a light yellow blue. But Derek only had eyes for the expanse of flesh waiting for him. He lowered his face back down to Jackson's lower back and down one of the legs, rubbing his hair, his beard, his lips, across everything. He followed the trail he left with his hands, traced his fingers along the skin and felt the incredible softness. He reached Jackson's feet and rubbed his face against the soles, Jackson flinched and bit his lip to keep himself from laughing, Derek chuckled for him.

Jackson's heels were rough and calloused, not surprising, Jackson was an athlete. Derek traced the rough skin with his hands and his mouth. He moved back up the leg and along the luscious curve of the boy's ass. He took the time to rub his whole head there too before moving back down the other leg and foot.

He traveled back up the boys back to his neck and nuzzled there, layered his scent with Jackson's own. His focus then went to the large wings and the glorious silky feathers. Derek buried his hands in the wings joints, traced the oil glands making the boy shiver and the glands leak. He then followed the large hollow bone of one of the wings all the way to the tip. Derek stroked each and every flight feather that extended out of the bone, ran the smooth silky things across his hands and face, it was amazing and sent trickling waves through his body. Derek gave the other wing the same treatment.

"Turn around," he finally said and backed off the bed to give Jackson space. Jackson sheepishly stood up and slowly turned around.

"You're going to have to help me down," said Jackson and extended his arms toward Derek, the older man grabbed them and pulled the boy to him, pressed their naked bodies together and kissed him deep and long, until need for air tore them apart. Derek slowly lowered Jackson onto the bed and burned what he saw forever into his brain, Jackson sprawled naked on his bed for him, only him.

Derek then slowly lowered himself over Jackson, placed his hands next to Jackson's head to avoid hurting his wings. He slowly scented the boys neck, moved down to the chest, rubbed his face against it and took each nipple in his mouth, giving them a hard suck and a sharp bite, Jackson grunted but buried his hands in Derek's hair and kept him there a bit longer. He then slowly traveled down Jackson's abs, licked each muscle, followed invisible blonde hairs to Jackson's lower stomach, past his belly button. Derek slide down and buried his nose into the thick bush of Jackson's pubes. He moved around that area and down one leg to the foot, then back up and down the other leg. Only after that did he rub his face against Jackson's throbbing dick, slick and shinny with pre-come. He dove into the space below Jackson balls and scented that area as well. He thought about it for a second before licking a long wet stripe from the base of Jackson's dick all the way up to the tip. Jackson grunted out a long, "_Fuck"_.

Derek pulled him up and into his arms and pressed their lips together in another long wet kiss, then pulled Jackson off the bed. He took the spot that Jackson had just vacated and exposed himself entirely to Jackson's waiting gaze and trembling hands.

"Its…It's your turn….to scent me, so that other demonics will know I'm with you…," Derek couldn't help smiling up at Jackson, the boy looked nervous.

Jackson was nervous, completely, horrifically so. He didn't understand what Derek was doing but it left him feeling needy and unsatisfied. Now Derek wanted him to do the same and he didn't understand why.

Derek saw the lost look on Jackson's face and remembered the book, remembered that he was dealing with someone with instincts completely different form his own. "Do what your instincts are telling you to do," he corrected himself and waited as Jackson thought.

Jackson threw his eyes across the room before they settled over the wooden box, and he knew. He grabbed the bottle of his oil and poured a steady stream across Derek's chest before rubbing it into the man's skin with his hands. He spread the oil everywhere, every inch, every crevice, he need to mark Derek as his, the way the older man had marked him, and he needed to finish cementing their bond. Jackson took his time and saved Derek's hard length for last, he grabbed it in a tight fist and slowly stroked it a few times while looking Derek in the eye, it was probably the hottest thing he'd ever done in his life, his wings shivered.

"It's your turn, to turn around," said Jackson, voice firm and commanding, not betraying the turmoil happening inside him. He couldn't come to terms with the fact that he was marking someone as his, someone who, if the bond held, and after they marry, he would spend the rest of eternity with, their souls linked forever as one. It was too profound a thing to understand then and there, instead he focused on the simple fact that they would finally be 'official', and Jackson was a bit embarrassed to realize how much he wanted that.

He drizzled his oil onto Derek's back, watched it roll slowly down the curve of his spine and settle into a pool on his lower back where the mounds of his round ass started. Jackson pushed the oil until it spilled over, between his crack, greasing the tight space. He then bathed the legs down to the feet and slowly rubbed the oil into Derek's skin, watched as the older man grew slick and shinny, it was really too much for Jackson's teenage mind, for his now truly raging hormones. Jackson lowered himself onto Derek's body and lined his dick up with the crack of the older mans ass and rubbed his dick along the slick crevice, it was bliss, Jackson's own private heaven, and there was nothing he could do to stop the moan that was dragged from somewhere deep in his own body.

Together they moved, Jackson downwards, Derek upwards, they met each other half way. Derek grit his teeth and wrapped his tail painfully around Jackson's thigh, to keep himself from coming too soon and to stop himself from flipping Jackson over and fucking him within an inch of his life. Everything was perfect, the oil, the smells, and it didn't take long.

Every time Jackson's dick caught the edge of Derek's hole and threatened to push into him, every time Derek moaned his name, the slick painfully squeeze of Derek's searing hot tail, or the silky smooth touch of feathers ghosting over his body, these were the things both men would remember for a long time to come.

The last thing Derek saw before he came was Jackson's shadow, his wings spread out wide behind him, looming over him, extended to their full length, glorious in their beauty, it was all wiped away when Jackson's halo exploded in a white light that filled the room and blinded both men, all they saw was white, all they felt was their orgasm, and for the first time, Derek felt the touch of Jackson's grace against his soul, his demonic taint, and they were one. Together they passed out.

Allison bought flowers, she knew it was stupid, Matt was a boy after all, but she couldn't think of anything else appropriate. She waited for the elevator to carry her to the right floor. She walked through the white halls, past the scrubbed nurses and sick patients and into Matt's room. He looked dead, ghost pale, heart monitor beeping next to him, and tubes everywhere. But Matt wasn't dead, the doctors said that it actually wasn't as bad as it looked, he had a lot of broken bones, but luckily his spine was intact and with a lot of physical therapy he might even regain full joint movement. They mentioned to Matt's parents a doctor in Los Angeles who specialized in bones and used medical alchemy to fix them, they were currently trying to contact him and convince him in helping in Matt's recovery. The hope was that he would make it so that Matt bones would be left as new, maybe even better. While they were busy making phone calls and calling favors, they begged Allison to visit Matt, to sit with him so their son wouldn't be alone, which she was grateful for. The guilt she felt was so strong and palpable it almost choked the life out of her, but being in the hospital, with Matt, it felt like contrition.

She put the flowers next to Matt's bed, emptied a vase of dead ones and replaced them with hers, it brightened the room a little, helped dissipate the sad desperate air of sickness and death. She sat by his bed and pulled out her homework and dove into the boring world of calculus.

After an hour a deep sleepy feeling seemed to suddenly come over her, she absent mindedly played with her bracelet, a new gift from her father. Lately her father had taken a strange new turn, he seemed worried, as if he were waiting for an axe to fall, a bomb to explode, and he turned this strange energy on to his family. As an ex-FBI agent his job had once been to hunt down and capture spirituals. But as a human he couldn't keep up, not with magic users, he trained hard and even invented new ways to take down spirituals, but without magic he was always in danger, he quit when Allison was born.

Allison was used to being trained by her father in all the things he knew, hunting down spirituals, learning to detect magic, self defense, guns, everything. But lately he'd been twice as bad, twice as heavy handed and determined and Allison was over it. She escaped to the hospital, spent long hours sitting by Matt doing homework or reading. Allison texted Lydia who often came and dragged her away from Matt to do something fun, which Allison greatly appreciated. She'd thought being dumped by Scott was bad, but she hadn't realized how much time she'd spent with him and her days seemed dull and lonely without his presences. She missed him.

She was suddenly brought out of her thoughts when her head slipped off her hand. She yawned wide and loud. Allison decided she needed coffee, and headed out of the room and down to the ground floor, there was a Starbucks across the street and she went to that for caramel macchiato. She grabbed extra packets of sugar and stuffed them in her pocket before heading back. She yawned again, covered her wide open mouth with her hand and blindly walked into the hospital and into an elevator. She shook her head to try and wake up, it didn't work. Allison took mouthfuls of coffee and swallowed them fast, it was nice and boiling hot, the way she loved.

As she approached Matt's room she felt like something was…off. Someone had closed the curtains and the whole space just seemed darker. As she walked forward she felt like she was pushing through water, or thick and unyielding air, and moving became nearly impossible, nearly. She pushed and pushed until she felt a pop, and she was suddenly in front of Matt's room. She flung open the door and there was someone there, in front of Matt, chocking him with one hand while the other did something.

"Stop!" screamed Allison and the person turned to her quickly and flung her hand out. Allison felt as something tried to push her backwards and out of the room, but she reached out and grabbed the bed as an anchor. The person attacked, lunged over the bed and grabbed Allison's arm, wrenched it to the side in a painful pull and Allison yelled out in pain. The person wrapped Allison in a bear hug and brought another arm over her throat and squeezed, and Allison couldn't breathe. She thought quickly, and stomped her foot down on her attackers, brought her head back in a teeth chattering slam against the others mouth. It hurt like hell, but the attacker staggered backwards gripping her bleeding mouth. Allison kicked the person in the stomach and sent them to the ground, but the attacker lifted their hand and sent Allison flying backwards. The attacker rushed her and Allison realized that she still had her coffee. She flung the steaming liquid straight into the attackers face and heard her scream. It was definitely a woman. Allison punched her twice before grabbing her by her hoodie and tossing her straight out of Matt's room. The attacker still had her hand over her face, but the hood had fallen away reveling blood red hair, she pulled out a tiny bottle and threw it on the ground. I giant cloud of black smoke appeared, the fire alarms went off, and the sprinklers rained down water. People in the hospital panicked, no one knew what was happening. But the attacker was gone and Allison called the police.

Derek woke up late Sunday, a bit past noon, hungry yet pleasantly content. The familiar weight of Jackson on top of him served as a reminder of all that had happened in the morning. It was strange for Derek, how much he loved it, the presence of someone else with him. It made him feel important again, he had another reason to live, a better reason than what he had been doing before. It was nice.

Jackson was lightly snoring, his head was buried in Derek's neck and would occasionally nuzzle the skin there. His wings hung heavy on top of both of them, they too would occasionally give a lazy and heavy flap or twitch. Derek traced one of his hands up and down Jackson's back, the other was wrapped reassuringly around the back of Jackson's neck, it was a possessive gesture but it reflected the way Derek felt. He yawned and could feel himself succumbing once again to the peace of the room. The window was open and the curtains wafted around, carried by a breath of cool wind. The sun shown lazily into the room and gilded everything in its golden hues.

Derek was soon snoring, he dreamed of Jackson. They were together, running through the woods, Jackson was chasing Derek and every time he neared he would reach out to grab him but Derek would always pull away at the last second. Until he slipped and Jackson crashed straight into him and they hit the ground. They rolled around on the ground, Jackson was laughing loud and hard, his eyes were crinkled shut in pure joy. Derek stared down at him and suddenly he said, "I love you," and Jackson opened his eyes and looked at Derek with total affection and laughed, "I know stupid, I love you too," and they kissed. This time Derek chased Jackson, and Jackson ran hard, leaving in his wake a trail of laughter for Derek to follow. He ran after the boy, but Jackson was fast. He followed the sound until he came to a house. It was big and full of light and laughter. He could hear the sound of children inside, could hear Jackson's laughter. Derek knew the house, it was his, but this one was bigger, it was happier. Jackson stepped out onto the porch and looked at him, lifted an eye brow with a knowing look in his eyes. Derek didn't want to go in there, he knew the instant he stepped into that house it would burst into flames, his dreams always ended with his house in flames, the people inside burning, melting, writhing. Jackson was suddenly in front of him, pulling him forward by his hand, Derek resisted, he dug his feet into the ground and pulled away from Jackson. The younger boy looked at him in annoyance, " You don't have to be scared any more, its us two now, you know, us against the world, everything we do we do together now, so come on," Jackson nodded towards the house, "Come on," Jackson slowly pulled Derek forward and into the house. Derek was home.

Matt was in pain, it wasn't bad, but it was there. He slowly opened his eyes, everything was dark, but he could hear the slow beep of something nearby, and could feel the rough sheets that covered him. He slowly became aware of his body, limb by limb, he noticed the numbness and the slow steady throb of pain. He tried lifting his arm but it was attached to his shoulder and completely covered in a cast, most of his body was. He was confused, he tried getting up again but couldn't, he slowly started to get scared, it rose and rose until pure terror ran through his blood like a cold shot of morphine, his heart rate monitor began to beep faster getting the attention of one of the nurses.

"Hey it's alright; don't be scared, you've had a small accident but your okay now,"

"I want my parents," were the first words out of his mouth and the only thing he could think of after. He called for them, yelled their names and cried. The nurse calmly pulled out a syringe and injected it into Matt's IV and watched as he slowly fell under the effects of the drugs. Matt never noticed the policemen who had been stationed in front of his room, or the others that roamed the halls.

Derek was waiting for Jackson, he was still naked lying in the bed he'd been in since last Saturday night, it was Sunday night now and Derek had no plans on leaving the bed any time soon. Jackson came back with two pizza boxes in his arms and two cans of coke. He sat on the other end of the bed and handed one box to Derek and blew on the can of coke. Derek watched as a thin layer of white frost appeared around the can before Jackson handed the can over, Jackson had been practicing his magic a lot apparently, Derek absentmindedly wished Scott had the same dedication. Together they ate in silence and peace, Jackson wondered where his parents were, Derek wondered what Jackson was thinking.

After, Derek gave Jackson another back rub to help ease the pain and strain from sleeping so long, they decided they didn't want to get back in bed, so instead they dressed and went for a walk in the woods. The night was cool but the moon was round and fat and cast a pleasant blue light on the ground. They didn't talk as they walked, instead they enjoyed each others presence. Jackson concentrated on his grace and the tiny part of Derek it had attached itself too. It made him feel completely exposed and insecure, it was horrible and thrilling at the same time. Derek could feel Jackson, in his head, his mind, his heart, could feel everything that passed through the boy, the roll of emotions and the happiness that seemed to overcast everything, it was amazing.

They eventually made it back to Jackson's room and slept. They dreamed again, together.

The next morning Jackson woke up angry, not at Derek, but at the fact that he had to go to school. They showered and dressed together and went into his kitchen to eat breakfast, Jackson's parents were waiting for them both.

"Jackson there are pop-tarts in the pantry, you'll be late for school if you don't leave now though, it's already seven thirty,"

"I should go to," Derek kissed Jackson on the cheek and turned to leave.

"No you don't, we need to talk," Jackson's mom gave Derek a look and the man faltered, it was a terrifying look.

Jackson didn't know what to do, he didn't want to leave Derek at the mercy of his parents, especially his mom. She was giving him the look now and he lifted an eyebrow, that look hadn't worked on him since he was five. She sighed and pointed out, Jackson knew this was going to eventually happen, his parents confronting Derek, so he sighed and left. Derek watched him leave with wide eyes.

"Come sit with us at the table Derek, here have some coffee," Jackson's mom placed a cup in front of his seat while his father pulled out a group of papers and began stapling them together and separating them into different piles.

"Obviously, you and my son have gone farther then we had hoped," she gave Derek a pointed look and the man couldn't help but blush, "but luckily my husband and I have been…preparing." She pulled one of the stacks towards her and continued, "This is your standard marriage contract. The terms are loose but strict. The engagement time can be determined by the two of you, but the out come must be marriage, there are no infidelity clauses written in, as you know angelics don't allow such things. This contract is confusing and a bit contradictory, we had to mix angelic and demonic laws to make it fit for the two of you. We thought we could go over it and rewrite it until its perfect."

Derek was completely overwhelmed, he wasn't ready for this, marriage, but he needed Jackson... He swallowed the lump in his throat, "Okay…let's go over them."

Jackson yawned wide as Deaton went over different angelic poets and artists of the first half of the twentieth century. School was almost over, he just had to get through two more classes and it was over. But the angelics class was brutally boring and Jackson was busy doodling in his notebook. He infused his pen with magic and watched his drawing come to life, it was pretty cool. He drew a zombie and police officer and watched them battle it out on his paper, the zombie won. He drew a giant eyeball and threw it out the window, he closed his eye and focused on the bit of grace he'd put in the drawing. He could see what the drawing saw, could look through the ink and paper eyes, he was outside in some bush, but he could see. That was amazing. He opened his eyes to make sure no one was watching his magical experimentation, it was deeply frowned upon since it could have, and often did lead to, deadly consequences, but no one had noticed. Jackson drew a spider and watched it crawl around his paper, he peeled the ink off the paper and watched the spider crawl around his desk, up his arm and across his chest. He saw Stiles taking notes like the little nerd he was. Jackson grabbed his spider and flung it right at Stiles' paper. Stiles looked at the still drawing that had suddenly appeared on his paper, he tapped it with his pen and Jackson's spider grabbed it. Stiles screamed, shrilled really, the entire class flinched, and Stiles flung himself backwards, his chair tipped over and he landed hard on the ground. Jackson bit his tongue, dug his teeth into it hard enough to draw blood, he couldn't laugh no matter how badly he wanted to. Stiles lay on the ground breathing, trying to regain his nerve. He stood up and pulled his chair off the floor as the class and Deaton stared at him.

"Spider…" was all Stiles said and pointed at his desk, Deaton raised an eyebrow but continued his lesson. Jackson drew a little version of himself, a badass angelic with black wings and a huge sword and flung it onto Stiles' paper, the boy flinched but didn't say anything. Tiny Jackson pulled out a sign, 'Gotcha bitch!', it read, and Jackson looked at Stiles and smiled his most wicked smirk, Stiles turned white, then red, he was furious, which only made Jackson smile harder. 'You are evil,' mouth Stiles.

"Well Stiles your little bout of arachnophobia nearly gave me a heart attack, so everyone take ten minutes while I get some fresh air." Deaton walked out of the class and the class burst into instant chatter.

Stiles punched Jackson as hard as he could and Jackson laughed and rubbed his arm. "Dude calm down," said Jackson as he held his arms up and dodged the rest of Stiles' attacks.

"Calm down! You fucking scared the shit out of me," said Stiles as he flailed wildly. Jackson laughed and threw his arm around Stiles and pulled him down into a friendly hug.

"Jackson! You know you're not allowed to have your sword out in class!" Deaton was in the doorway yelling at the top of his voice.

"What are you talking about," asked Jackson completely confused. Stiles was still trapped underneath his arm.

"I…I thought I saw…I'm sorry Jackson I—"

Jackson felt it, on his sensitive wings, a stirring in the air. It was something he knew better than anyone in the room, it was something he could practically see, it was the feeling of air sliced through by a sword. Jackson moved fast, he'd practiced for situations just like this, he unsheathed his sword and blocked the hit. The ring of metal on angelic adamantine rang through the class. Jackson couldn't see anyone, but something had just tried to kill him. He used his wings and pushed Stiles to the ground to keep him from doing something stupid. He felt the movement of air right next to him, near his head, he ducked and swung his sword horizontally, he saw as a thin line of red blood appeared in the air, floating off the ground as it dripped to the floor. Jackson pulled his sword back and shoved it forward skewering his attacker. The man hung limply off his sword as Jackson lifted it off the ground and flung the corpse out the window.

He was panting hard, his sword was covered in blood, it flowed down the edge and onto the hilt. The class was quite, no one was sure what they had just seen. Then a shrill scream came from somewhere in the school, followed by another, and another until the whole school was in an uproar. Jackson left the classroom and saw as classmates around him dropped dead from deep gouging wounds. Jackson called on his grace and bent it to his will before flinging it out into the school covering the grounds. It took massive amounts of his grace, more then he had ever used before, but he was able to blast the attackers into visibility. He struck then, each and every one of them, like lightening cleaving through the sky. They were on the ground dead before they even knew they were visible. More attackers dressed in black poured into the hall. Jackson brandished his sword and they clashed.

There were a lot of them, a small army. Jackson swung his long sword as if it weighed nothing and cleaved heads off shoulders, limbs flew, and blood soaked the floor. But they kept coming, drawn to the sound of battle, and soon enough Jackson knew he was in over his head. No one was fighting back, just Jackson, everyone was busy fleeing or cowering in fear. A large guy appeared, fatter than anyone Jackson had ever seen, and swung a large axe over his head. Jackson held his sword with two hands and attacked, ducked under the fat guys axes, and brought his sword upwards, sliced the stomach open and watched as the organs spilled out onto the floor.

But he was surrounded there were too many enemies and his long sword was too slow a weapon, even when held in one hand. So he changed it, he called on his last remaining grace and heated his sword, softened the metal, and brought his hand straight down on the blade, breaking it in two. He took the soft metal in his hand and molded it into another sword. He released the magic and in his hands he held two perfectly formed short swords, thin and powerful. He danced, left and right, and filled his foes with holes, punctured their organs, drained them of their blood until the halls were full of dead bodies, and they began to flee. People were finally fighting back, he could see Peter summoning fire beneath enemy's feet, Danny and Scott were fighting back to back, swinging their swords clumsily, and Stiles was bending magic around people trapping them in invisible chains. Jackson panted, he was exhausted, he felt his legs buckle and fell onto a knee. His vision blurred before collapsed unconscious in the pools of blood that surrounded him.


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: Thanks everyone who has commented, you all are great! And thanks to those who are reading!

The Sheriff had reached his limit, he was exhausted and knew he was on the verge of some serious injury and there was nothing he could do to stop it, but he had work to do. The last few weeks, who was he kidding, months, had seen a massive rise in deaths, all spirituals. Some one out there was targeting the spirituals of his town and the Sheriff could do nothing to stop it, he was out gunned, out manned, and always one step behind. It was too big a situation for him to handle by himself so he called it in, contacted SARS, Spiritual Assault and Rescue Squad. They specialized in cases were spirituals were either the victims or the victimizer. They were also called in when magic was used in terrible and mysterious ways. They were brutal and merciless but had a one hundred percent success rate. If anyone could stop the serial killers, it would be them.

The sheriff sighed as he walked into his house at three in the morning, he'd just finished his paper work for the attack at the school, it was the most horrific thing he'd seen in his life, dead bodies everywhere, blood so thick and slick his officers were slipping and sliding across the school, and children's dead bodies strewn across the campus... and all the sheriff could think of was that it could have been his son…He shook his head and remembered a time when the worst crime he had to deal with was a robbery here and there, maybe some spousal abuse, or an accidental shooting, a murder every decade, but now it was as if he had a new body in the morgue everyday and he just couldn't keep up.

He checked on his son, who was in bed sleeping soundly, the sheets were twisted around his body and he was snoring loudly. The Sheriff smiled, he was proud of him, the Sheriff had seen his son defend his fellow classmates, saw him use non-deadly force, and afterwards Stiles had healed as many injured people he could. At times like that, Stiles reminded him so much of his mother it hurt…He saw it all through Chris Argents state of the line security system and the hundred of cameras that were installed across campus, the guy was obviously crazy but for once the sheriff was grateful to have a reliable first hand source. Tomorrow he would have to get someone to take a statement from Stiles while he went to the hospital to visit Jackson and got a statement from him. Jackson…the hero of the day, at least the way all the witness told it.

He sighed and unbuckled his gun holster and hung it on the nightstand next to his bed, he didn't want to sleep too far from it. Once he was in bed he thought about it, he was so tired, but he climbed out and down the stairs to his front door, he called on his taint and laid his hand on the door and pushed his intent onto it, 'protect my family', and with it he strengthened the wood of the door and the house itself. When he finished he collapsed into his bed and slept for four short hours before he had to go back to the station.

'_You okay_?' asked Derek not being able to hide the unbearable concern that he'd felt all night. When Jackson didn't come home everyone in the household panicked. Luckily, Stiles called Derek to let him know what had happened, which did nothing to dissipate the families concern. If anything it increased their anxiety ten fold, no one knew what was happening except that someone out there was attacking spirituals. The Whittemore's were busy rounding up all the heads of the spiritual families throughout town to have a community meeting; they wanted to discuss the situation and what they could do to best protect their children, their families, and their businesses.

'_You okay?' _asked Derek again. He felt as Jackson stirred, he tossed and turned but refused to wake up. Derek called louder, _'Come on…I'm worried Jax.' _That got his attention, the boy came to, swam forward from the darkness and blinked, confused.

'_Derek,'_ Jackson had no idea where he was.

'_Yeah, it's me. How are you feeling, you okay?'_

'_Yeah…I'm just fucking sleepy…so tired," _Jackson stretched.

Derek chuckled, _'Alright,' _he said, '_I'll be here for when you're ready to wake up.'_ Jackson smiled and curled himself around the tiny piece of Derek's soul and slept peacefully knowing that Derek was watching over him.

In his room, in his old house, Derek opened his eyes and sighed, he was relieved but anxious to have Jackson back. He rose out of his bed and brewed coffee as he showered. He wanted to spend the day next to Jackson's bed so he wouldn't be alone or in danger, a bit overly concerned, but he wanted to do it regardless, he wanted to be the first person Jackson saw when he opened his eyes.

He ate breakfast slowly and thought about what he could bring Jackson as a present. He couldn't take flowers, no, that was stupid, he needed to bring something Jackson would love, a card…too impersonal, some food…maybe. This was harder than Derek thought it would be.

He drank his coffee and reached into his mind, to that tiny little piece of Jackson that now lived inside him. He was still sound asleep, Derek let him rest, he needed it. He couldn't think of anything to bring him…Maybe it would be enough to just be there for him. That thought was sudden and completely foreign, it itched. He couldn't help smiling, Jackson wasn't as asleep as Derek thought if he was putting ideas in his head.

He dressed quickly and headed to the hospital, Jackson would be up soon and the boy wanted to see his boyfriend.

Allison laughed, threw her head back and closed her eyes. Matt was eating jell-o, or trying to, most of it was smeared across the bed, staining the sheets purple. Matt refused to let Allison feed him, it was too fucking embarrassing really, but Allison had insisted so much and looked so sincere it made Matt dizzy, but he was still stuck in his cast unable to move at all and he had desperately tried to move his head to his hand, which he was sure looked ridiculous. Allison took the spoon from Matt's hand and filled it with jell-o and placed it in front of Matt. He reached out tentatively, blushing furiously, and ate. It was good, and Allison was smiling wide which made him feel completely weird.

Matt had trouble remembering what had happened the day of his accident, shit, he had trouble remembering the week. The only thing he remembered was his house on fire and going on a walk. But it didn't matter now, he felt oddly liberated. As if some dark weight in his life had been lifted, dissipated, and having Allison at his bed side was proof of that, she was the shinning sun that chased away the dark shadows he once felt suffocating him. He opened his mouth and waggled his eyebrow at Allison, trying to coax more jell-o from her, she laughed and rolled her eyes. But he got another spoon full of jell-o, and then another, and soon it was gone. Allison smiled wide at him, and Matt smiled back, he couldn't stop blushing.

Allison was trying hard to pretend to be happy but the truth was she was scared. First the attack at the hospital, then the school, that couldn't be a coincidence…

While being human Allison could understand why some other people might feel that spirituals had all the advantages in life, after all they had access to powerful magics. Allison never believed that advantage was real though, it was an illusion. Yes, spirituals could do magic, but society only let them have very specific jobs, and while a spiritual could grow rich and powerful in those positions, they could never choose to be anything else. In that light, magic became a parlor trick, something that at the end of the day wasn't really impressive, at least not the way people used it, and anyways, only a very small amount of spirituals ever became really good at magic since it took a lot of practice.

Allison feared that some human out there had formed a group into a small anti-spiritual army to take back…she shrugged to herself, she didn't know, but the idea terrified her. History showed what happened when one group hated another for no other reason than because they were different.

But Matt was awake and safe now and Allison felt as if she'd been vindicated, she could breathe again. Matt smiled at her and blushed; she rolled her eyes but smiled back.

"You know…you don't have to stay if you don't want to…I mean…there isn't much to do…I'm kind of stuck here." Matt didn't want Allison to be there just because she felt obligated. He didn't want her to feel guilty, even if she was.

"I'm here because I want to be, so stop trying to get me to leave…unless you want me to leave—"

"No! You can stay."

"Alright then," said Allison smiling and turned on the television.

Sheriff Stilinski yawned and took a deep drink of his coffee. The last few days had been hell on his sleep and his body ached and eyes itched terribly. He walked into the hospital and was luckily greeted by Mrs. McCall at the front desk.

"Melissa, how are you doing, I hope you've heard about what happened at the school."

"It's the only thing Scott talks about…he killed someone apparently…he was so happy about it…I have to admit that terrified me, but I guess if it was between a random stranger or my son…well…anyways what can I do for you sheriff."

"I was hoping to speak to the Whittemore boy; he was apparently in the middle of the whole mess."

"Well he's in one of the private rooms, but I don't think he's awake yet."

"Is it alright if I go see him anyways?" asked the sheriff giving Melissa his most charming smile.

"Sure…Derek Hale is there, I'm no quite sure why. I think maybe his parents asked the man to guard him or something…"

"Thanks, for the warning Melissa," the sheriff sighed as he walked into an elevator and pushed the button for the second floor. The lift was full of patients, nurses, and visitors and the man had to squeeze and shuffle himself into a space made for someone half his size. He yawned wide as someone chatted away about some online game to no one in particular, most people looked annoyed. The sheriff shook his head as he walked out of the elevator. He instantly became lost and walked aimlessly around the halls until he finally found the right room.

Inside, it looked like any other hospital room, grey walls, grey sheets, and grey chairs with a shitty television drilled into one of the walls. But this one had a west facing window, and as the sun rose that morning it washed the room with its yellow rays. The Sheriff could see the forest from the wide open window and its green quite beauty. Jackson was sleeping in the bed, small smile on his face. Derek sat next him and was currently brushing the hair out of the boys face with his own fond smile. The sheriff thought he understood the situation between Derek and Jackson more than Melissa seemed to, then again her son had to get his cluelessness from somewhere.

"Derek," said the Sheriff and nodded his head towards the younger man.

"Sheriff Stilinski…"

"Sorry, I didn't mean to come and bother you but I needed to talk to Jackson."

"He won't be up for a while, maybe an hour or two," Derek closed his eyes as he said this, "yeah an hour seems about right. Feel free to wait…you kind of seem to need…a breather," finished Derek with a small smile pulling at his lips.

The Sheriff thought about it for a second before dropping into one of the grey seats in the corner and finishing off his coffee in a long gulp. He tossed the empty cup in a garbage can next to his seat and sighed. He sat in the room, rested, for half an hour before Derek broke the silence. He cleared his throat in a clear indication that he wanted to talk.

"Mr. Stilinski I've been meaning to talk to you for a while…Stiles always talks about you and…I've had questions…"

"Okay," said the Sheriff with absolutely no idea what Derek wanted.

Derek sighed before jumping straight into it, "I wanted to know, and feel free to turn me down but I could really use some…advice. I want to know how you and your wife bonded, how different was it, are there things I needed to know," Derek sighed again, louder, more desperate, "I have no idea what I'm doing and I almost ruined it once…I can't let that happen again and you're the only person I know who has been through it before…" Derek waited and hoped Stiles' father wouldn't be too insulted or taken aback. But the man just looked at him with a look on his face that Derek couldn't decipher. Then he turned that same look on Jackson and Derek knew that that man knew, and couldn't help blushing.

The sheriff shook his head and sighed, "Your kind of in a shit situation…there's so much about angelics that I still don't understand, but…well you should know right now that you can't cheat on him, he'll always know, and who ever you cheat on him with…he'll kill them…without mercy or regret…"

"Yeah…I kind of already found that out the hard way…but he didn't kill anyone…that I know of…"

The Sheriff gave him a chastising look before going on, "Well, angelics share oil to seal the mating bond, they also do it to strength it so get used to being oiled up…umm…grooming is important and if you haven't done it already you should really read up on it…also about the oil, because we're demonics and don't produce any we have to find something else to use. I used to use olive oil, it was kind of weird but it fulfilled its role," the sheriff chuckled, "I found out later that it isn't the exchange of oil that's important, well it is, but the emotions behind it are more so." The sheriff stopped talking as a far off look settled on his face. He shook his head, clearing away memories of the past, memories of things that had already faded away.

"You can probably read about all this online…" The Sheriff wasn't sure if he could keep going, Derek was forcing him to remember things he fought hard to forget. Her voice, the smell of her oil, and the feel of her skin, all things he missed more than anything else in his life and Derek was reminding him of it all, reminding him that he didn't really remember, no, all he had were shadows, things he so desperately clung to only to have them slip from his hands more and more everyday until they were gone. He sighed.

"I…I'm sorry I shouldn't have asked…I didn't think…It's just," Derek turned to the sleeping boy and he felt it, he felt Jackson and was stunned that a boy like him, a boy who so desperately tried to keep the world out with a tough exterior, could feel so much love, had so much affection he wanted to give and get in return and Derek was so overwhelmed, "I love him, and I need to do everything right…"

The sheriff opened his mouth but was silenced when the door to Jackson's room slammed open. Derek was on his feet before the older man had even flinched, he had his sword out and extended towards the door. Stiles stopped dead in his tracks, before putting his hands up. Derek and Sheriff Stilinski sighed loudly as Stiles walked into the room.

"Sorry…hey dad," Stiles waved at his father who grumbled under his breath, "I came to visit." Stiles smiled and, not finding any chairs threw himself onto Jackson's bed across his feet. He pulled out his cell phone and the two older men suddenly felt out of place. Derek sighed before sliding back down onto his chair.

"Derek if you really want, maybe one day you and Jackson can join me and my son for dinner,"

"That sounds nice, thank you."

At that moment Jackson groaned, "Get off my legs you bastard," he kicked his legs out and tossed Stiles onto the floor. He coughed and slowly opened his eyes before scrunching them shut again. Derek moved the curtains over the windows and blocked out the harsh light before taking Jackson's hand and squeezing it.

"Jackson you okay,"

"No, I'm hungry and thirsty and wished I'd told you to bring me a burger," Derek filled a glass with water and placed in Jackson's hands.

"I'll go get you something from the cafeteria," Derek wrapped his hand around Stiles' neck who was slowly climbing to his feet and checking his phone for cracks, "while I'm gone the Sheriff wants to have a word with you about what happened yesterday at the school." Derek pushed Stiles out the door and closed it quietly behind him.

"So," started the Sheriff, "what happened."

Stiles had five bags of chips, four Snickers, two bags of twinkies, and a can of all in a plastic bag which he was swinging around. He and Derek were slowly making their way back to Jackson's room, Derek wanted to give the Sheriff and Jackson time to talk, Stiles wanted to know what they were saying, he would just have to read his fathers notes later.

"So you and Jackson are a couple or something now," said Stiles completely shocking Derek.

"You knew that already," said Derek. Stiles did, Jackson had told Stiles everything.

"Well yeah Jackson told me you and him were…dancing around each other, but he never said you guys were 'official'. Well I guess I'm asking if everything is good with you two now, he wouldn't tell me anything in school yesterday and so…they cancelled it by the way, school, indefinitely. Which is, awesome, I was trying to see if I can get Jackson to go out of town. There's a lake me and my dad and mom used to go to a lot and, well I was feeling nostalgic. You can come too…and maybe invite Scott…" Stiles finally stopped talking. Derek didn't speak, they just kept walking and Stiles swung his plastic bag until it final snapped and shot out of his hand spilling everything onto the floor. Derek gave Stiles a look and a low growl before climbing over the stuff and into Jackson's room.

"Hey Derek, Jackson, JACKSON, I got you chips, chips!"

Jackson was released later than evening, Derek drove him home. Stiles and his dad had staid most of the day, the Sheriff slept as Jackson and Stiles played a game on their cell phones, Derek sat around and watched, happy to be near Jackson. But all Jackson could think about was the Sheriff and how ragged he looked; he desperately needed a partner someone to ease some of the weight off his shoulders, take on some of the responsibility of protecting the town, the man needed help. But the other officers were all human, spirituals weren't usually allowed into law enforcement, people felt that they would give other spirituals more leniency since the spiritual community was so close knit. But that was ridiculous, and Mr. Stilinski had proven that, but the mayor refused to hire other spirituals which meant that the sheriff had to handle most cases himself since he was the only person on the force who could do any magic. Jackson would speak to his parents about it, maybe there was something they could do.

Jackson was surprised to find his them home, they were cooking dinner and talking about some shit Jackson didn't care enough to bother listening to. But they welcomed him home warmly and Jackson returned the affection, much to their surprise, he hugged them and kissed them, Jackson was happy to be home. Yesterday, there had been a point he wasn't sure he was going to make it back.

Derek staid for dinner, and all four of them sat down to an easy, quite meal. They didn't speak about the attack at the school. Instead, Jackson's parents talked about the curfew they were going to petition the mayor to set, about the armed guards they wanted at the school and the hospital. Jackson told his parents that if they wanted any of that to happen they were going to have to force them to hire more police men since they were seriously understaffed, Jackson let it slip that there weren't even any spirituals on the force, which seemed to set his parents off, they had fought hard against discrimination to get the jobs they had and to hear that such obvious discrimination was happening in their backyard was outrages.

Derek asked them if they didn't think it was a good idea to send Jackson away, for a few days, as the dust settled, he said it was just about time some reporter let it slip that Jackson had defended the school against the unknown attackers and that was sure to bring unwanted attention on the boy, from the towns people and from whoever was targeting spirituals. They were going to make Jackson an obvious target. His parents hadn't thought of that but couldn't think of where they could possible send him. Derek knew about a lake, Stiles' lake, and had found cabins in the area for rent, he'd already rented them out for the week, of course he didn't tell the Whittemore's that. Jackson's parents thought about it, they weren't sure it was a good idea to leave Jackson alone; the 'with Derek' part went unsaid. But Derek spent the rest of the dinner trying to convince them, to no avail. It wasn't until Jackson turned the television on that everything seemed to fall into place. There was a full news report on the attack of the school, with footage taken from cell phones, all of them showing Jackson fighting off the attackers, keeping them from going past him, giving the people around him time to flee through the back of the school. The police hadn't let Jackson's name or his involvement in the situation slip, it was only a matter of time for people to start talking and figure it out.

His parents had Jackson's truck packed and ready to go an hour later, Jackson called Stiles who showed up not much after that, packed and rearing to go. Derek called Scott and told him where to meet them, he made sure to express how no one must know where they were going, which meant Scott had to be careful that he wasn't followed, which meant that for once in his life Scott needed to pay close attention to what was happening around him. Derek wasn't sure that was possible.

It was late evening and the sun was slowly slipping below the horizon while Jackson drove south. The roads were fairly empty and the cabin wasn't too far from where they were, only four hours.

"Derek…should I be scared…I mean this was kind of sudden, and lots of shit I don't understand is happening and I don't know if I should be scared or not…cause I kind of am…"

"Don't be, this is precautionary. With that stupid news report people are going to find out that the person in those videos is you…and we don't want to be there when they do…but things like this always blow over, we just have to stay out of sight for a while, so think of it as a week long vacation." Derek wrapped his tail around Jackson's torso in a hug, it was an attempt at comfort, a half assed one. But if Derek was honest with himself, he knew he should tell Jackson that there was in fact reason to be scared. Someone out there wasn't just targeting spirituals, they were targeting Jackson, first with the poison in his food, then at his school, and god, for all Derek knew there could have been a million different time Jackson had almost died without even realizing it. He curled his tail just a bit tighter around Jackson.

Scott ducked around the bushes and into the backyard. It was dark and most people were all ready in their rooms preparing for sleep. Scott wasn't sure how secretive he was meant to be, so he decided to just take it to its extreme. He stuck to the bushes, he ducked down and grabbed some rocks and started flinging them at a window. When the lights went off he ducked into the shadows and waited to see who came out to look. 'Bingo', Danny's head popped out the window and looked around, Scott stood and waved his arms, Danny scowled.

Ever since Scott broke up with Allison, all they seemed to do was fight. Danny knew it was mostly his fault, he knew that he still resented Scott for using him as an insult against Allison and Danny was making Scott pay for it. But, the truth was Danny felt guilty, he and Scott had been going behind Allison's back for a while and now Scott was trying to make them something more than they were, and Danny wasn't sure if he wanted that.

Danny walked down the stairs and into the back yard. Scott was waiting for him near the back door, sheepish look on his face.

"So…for some reason Derek wants me to meet him at some lake…we're going to be there for a week and I was wondering if you wanted to come with me…I know its been weird between us…I know there's something wrong…" Scott stopped talking and cast his eyes down to the ground before looking back up at Danny through his bangs, his pup eye look. '_Damn'_, he was fucking cute.

Danny sighed, school was cancelled, and problems or not he liked Scott, maybe getting away and reevaluating everything would help fix them. "Give me like an hour."

An hour and a half later the two boys were heading down the highway.

Wednesday morning Stiles slowly drove into the parking space in front of the cabins. He killed the engine and turned to the back seat. Derek and Jackson were wrapped around each other, Jackson on top, his wings spread out and taking up all the space, Derek beneath arms wrapped around Jackson, his tail holding him close. Stiles sighed, he was jealous, he wanted what they had, he wanted someone to hold close, someone to love. He knew that person wasn't Scott, even if he once thought it had been. But if someone like Jackson could find someone…

He slammed the door close and hoped it would wake the two love birds. Stiles walked into the main office to check them in, he got two keys, for two cabins. He wasn't going to sleep with Scott, he was still pissed at him for dumping him for Allison and then Danny, which meant he was about to play cock blocker. He walked back to the car and was treated to the image of Jackson and Derek dry humping against the hood. He cleared his throat then coughed and finally said, "Will you two quit it and help me unload the truck!"

Jackson laughed, the bastard had been doing it on purpose. Stiles turned, mumbling under his breath, to open the cabins while Derek and Jackson unloaded the truck. To both boys surprise Derek said he was sleeping in one cabin with Scott while Jackson and Stiles slept in the other. Jackson scowled but didn't fight him on the point, everyone knew that arrangement wasn't going to last. Once all the bags were in cabin Derek went off to buy food while Jackson and Stiles slept.

Derek came back to find them sprawled on the same bed, and pushing down a quick flash of jealous, was able to appreciate how innocent they looked. He packed each cabin with enough food to last a month, but Derek knew it probably wasn't going to last the week. When he was done he threw himself in the other bed and closed his eyes, the week was going to be great, Derek knew it. What scared him was going back to Beacon Hills, he knew that whatever was happening was going to hit the fan the instant they got back…and he was scared…


	10. Chapter 10

Around noon on Wednesday Scott pulled into a small parking lot with a huge black truck in it that seemed to shrink everything around it. Off to one side was a small little cabin with a sign that read 'Main Office', it was a small little cottage style cabin decorated in dark browns and greens like the forest around it, white crown molding bordered its edges and made the cabin look like a frosted gingerbread house. Around the front was a small trail that led behind the office and which dove deep into the woods and then forked away into six different trails. The scattering of cabins were called The Witch Wood Cabins and Camping Grounds, named after the woods that surrounded the lake, which itself was named Lago Dulce. The area was thickly wooded and the cabins could only be found down a dirt road that bumped and dipped for miles before finally pulling into the front of the main office.

Scott pulled Derek's Camaro next to the familiar looking truck and killed the engine. Danny was asleep in the passenger seat, lightly snoring and curled up, in what Scott could only assume was a painful position next to the window. Scott pulled out his cell phone and dialed Derek's number, it went straight to voice mail, '_He must have it off_'' thought Scott. He climbed out of the car and walked to the front desk. The office was small, really small, there were only a few feet from the door to the front desk, most of the space was on the other side of the counter and was occupied by a giant desk, a refrigerator, a television, and then stretched on past a door way into other rooms.

Scott stood there for a few minutes before walking to the counter and looking around it. There was no bell on the counter, or above the door, and nothing to announce his presence. "Hello…" he called out and waited for a response but got none. He sighed in frustration before walking out of the office and back to the car, he checked on Danny through the window but he was still asleep. Scott stood and stretched, the drive had been a long one, Derek said the lake was only four hours away, which was true, if you already knew how to get there, but Scott hadn't, and it took him literally forever to find it, even with the GPS map on his cell phone.

Scott walked down the trail behind the main office, when he reached the fork in the road he looked down each path in the hopes of seeing anything that would tell him where the fuck Derek was. Luckily there were signs that said which trial led to which numbered cabin. Derek had told Scott which cabin they were staying in…Scott just couldn't remember which on he said it was. He knew Derek liked privacy and knew Derek had rented out two cabins, that probably meant he rented out one of the far cabins with no neighbor on one side rather than the middle ones which had neighbors on both sides…maybe. He sighed and took the farthest right trail.

Scott walked for several minutes down the quite lonely trail, he looked down as he walked and followed the trail of broken light made up by the leaves in the trees, they gave the illusion of stained glass that swayed and swirled when the wind blew and changed the ground beneath Scott's feet. He could hear the birds chirping and the strange sound of twigs snapping and was reminded how far from civilizations they were. Scott never understood why people went camping, it was creepy, a person alone in the woods surrounded by the unknown…

He finally crested over a small hill and came into view of a small cabin. It looked like the gingerbread main office and was surrounded by a small patch of bright flowers, '_probably planted to cheer up the creepy woods_' thought Scott. He walked up to one of the windows and looked inside, his view was that of the whole cabin the kitchen, living room and bed rooms were all one space, and while it looked a bit like a motel room, it had a cozier more home like feel, it wasn't bad. On the bed closest to the door Scott could see Derek, he lucked out. He knocked on the front door and waited, then knocked a bit louder and heard someone stirring inside. The door slowly creaked open and Derek's sleep mussed head peered through the small opening. He scowled when he saw Scott, closed the door and stepped out a few minutes later.

"Your late," were the first words out of Derek's mouth and like usual Scott felt thoroughly chastised, "Don't worry about it though, I bet you got lost," as Derek talked he walked down the path back towards the parking lot, "we got lost too, for like hours, we didn't make it back here till this morning," Derek opened his mouth in a large yawn and then smiled privately.

Scott was surprised to see him so calm, he was usually all wound up and angry, but here he seemed…happy? He even looked lighter, brighter, his tail flicked left and right where it hung behind him, usually Derek kept his demonic aspects hidden from view, Scott was suddenly not as afraid and also more so. They finally made it back to the parking lot, Danny was still snoring and slowly drooling on the window.

"I thought I told you to come alone," said Derek giving Scott an appraising look.

"No…you said be careful I wasn't followed,"

"Did he tell anyone where he was going?"

"…I don't know," and it was true, he had no idea if Danny let anyone know he was leaving.

Derek just hummed and walked over to his car, checked out the body, the paint job, the tires, and rubbed his thumb on certain places on the windshield, but if he saw something wrong he didn't say. He then opened the trunk and helped Scott pull out the things he'd brought along, Danny's two bags of clothes, and Scott's one, plus the massive bags of junk food Scott had bough at a gas station on his drive over. Scott knocked on Danny's window and the boy flinched awake, he shook his head and yawned wide before stepping out of the car. Danny looked around and blushed when his eyes landed on Derek, the demonic had always been his go to fantasy guy, tall dark and incredibly muscled, and the man had seen him drooling, and that was embarrassing as fuck.

"Hi," was all Danny could think of saying as he blushed furiously. Derek hadn't noticed, Scott had and scowled, he shot Danny a look and the other boy rolled his eyes, he had no interest in the man…he just thought he was hot…extremely so.

With bags in hand the three men made their way back down the trial, when they reached the fork, rather than going to cabin number six, Jackson's cabin, they went to number five, Scott's cabin. The trail was very much the same and if one was careful and observant they could even see the other cabins through the trees, they were far away enough to offer privacy, but not so much as to make the place seem deserted. No one spoke as they walked Scott anxious and suddenly nervous, he never thought he would have to compete with Derek for Danny's attention. Danny could tell that Scott had gone to his dark place, he'd been around Jackson enough to know when someone did…and for the first time in a long time Danny was reminded that he and Jackson had once been best friends, had shared everything with each other, and Danny couldn't remember when that had stopped. It might have been when Jackson turned sixteen and never came into his spiritual being, it might have been when Danny started spending more time with Scott's group rather than Jackson's group, or it might have been when he chose sex with Scott over friendship with Jackson.

They made it to the cabin, Derek had left the windows open when he stocked it with food and the inside was pleasantly cool and cozy compared to how stuffy it had been when Derek first opened it.

"So are you two sharing a bed or what?" Derek shot each boy a sly look and crooked smile. Each boy blushed, but didn't respond. Derek huffed out his humor and threw the bags of junk food on the kitchen table while Scott and Danny placed their bags of clothes on a bed.

"You should unpack, I'll go wake the Jackson and Stiles and then we can get something to eat."

"What are they doing here, for that matter what are we doing here Derek, not that I'm not glad you called me or anything…it just so sudden."

"Think of it as a vacation," was all Derek said and smiled, to Scott that was the creepiest thing the older man could have done, Danny thought he looked incredibly handsome.

The two boys unpacked their bags while Derek trekked the small wooded area between each house. Derek was actually glad Scott had brought someone to keep him busy, he wanted to spend the time with Jackson. Stiles was still there but the two boys had grown close fast and Derek didn't want to come between that. As he approached the small cabin Derek could here noises from within.

"Just do it before Derek gets back I don't want him to stop us or anything,"

"Jackson I don't think…I mean what if I hurt you, what if I do something wrong—"

"Jesus Stiles you act as if this were your first time just do—OWWW, what the fuck dude!"

"You said just do it!"

"Yeah but slow come on…this doesn't feel too bad though…after the initial shock."

"Shut up, don't move, don't even breath, I don't really know what I'm supposed to be doing."

Derek took a deep breath and slowly opened the door, Jackson was sitting on his bed shirtless, wings spread high and wide. Stiles sat behind him and was slowly rubbing his hand in circles around Jackson's wing joint, his hand was glowing a bright green.

"What are you doing…" Derek felt awkward, he really didn't know what was going on, for all he knew it was some weird angelic thing.

"Jackson asked me to heal his pulled wing muscle, now stop talking I need totally focus—and holy shit I'm hungry."

Stiles pulled his hand away and tapped on Jackson back before getting off the bed and washing his hands in the kitchen sink. Jackson stretched his wings and flapped them, Derek felt the strong gust from where he stood. He walked into the room while Jackson tested out his muscles and their renewed range. Derek didn't want to pass over a shirtless Jackson, so as the boy stretched his wings high up and out—Jackson had actually caught Derek looking and decided to encourage the lustful gaze—Derek pounced and trapped Jackson beneath him before attacking the boy's mouth. Stiles snorted and stood awkwardly in the room before deciding to hide out in the bathroom while the two went at it.

It was a knock on the door that finally tore the two apart. Derek rose and called Stiles out of the bathroom before opening the door for Danny and Scott, Jackson wiped the saliva off his mouth while he pulled a shirt out from one of the dressers he'd stuffed them in. Jackson pulled the shirt over his head before struggling to stuff his wings into it, all pre-made wing holes were too small and Jackson had to cut them larger to accommodate his new appendages. Danny and Scott watched as Jackson twisted and turned but failed to get his wings through the shirt.

"Stop, your gonna pull another muscle and I'm not going to heal it if you do," said Stiles with that annoyed look on his face, the one that told Jackson that there was no way they had become close friends, especially when he acted the way he did, it was the same look Danny used to get…

"I know, shut up…Derek…mind giving me a hand…" They both briefly looked at each other before Derek walked up behind Jackson and helped the wings through the shirt, Jackson could finally finish rolling it down his body, both men were blushing shyly. Stiles was the only one who realized that something important had happened; it wasn't that Derek hadn't touched Jackson's wings before, shit the things Jackson had told him Derek had done to his wings gave him…ideas…for days…No this was different for the fact that it was the first time Jackson had asked Derek to touch his wings in public, and for angelics that was huge, it was the same as a public announcement of love, Jackson knew that, Derek knew that.

"So," started Jackson hoping the burning in his face would go away, "what are we eating?"

Derek smiled, his own face taking on a slight shade of red, "Well I think I saw—"

"NO," interrupted Stiles, "this is my lake! I know the area, I decide were we eat!" No one spoke after Stiles' temper tantrum, except for Jackson, he snorted and laughed, hard. Stiles shot him a scathing look but that didn't stop Jackson.

"So where do you wan to eat then bitch, I'm hungry,"

"There's a small restaurant like half an hour from here, its great. It's like a diner but better."

"Well…I guess it's decided. We can take my car," said Derek as they all walked out of the small cabin.

When they reached the car they realized that that wasn't going to work, Jackson's wings wouldn't fit.

"Just put them away," said Scott and Jackson gave him a look, the one that said he couldn't believe how stupid Scott was. Jackson did try and for a second it worked, his wings disappeared, only to reappear painfully. Jackson cringed and Derek gave Scott a dirty look.

They all piled into Jackson truck, three in the front, and Jackson and Stiles in the camper. Derek set off back the way they came as Stiles gave him directions through the small window in the back. He found the restaurant easily enough, there were signs for it running all along the road. Everyone piled out and looked at the small diner, it was called Tina's and had that strange 1950's feel to it.

They entered and sat while the waitress pulled out menus. She was a young girl who kept staring at Jackson with hungry eyes, Jackson for his part hadn't noticed, people always seemed to look at him that way. Derek had noticed and when the girl turned to him he glared and the girl fled. An awkward silence fell across the table as the four guys waited for their food. Stiles was kind of angry thinking that he had to spend the next week with two fucking couples, it sounded like the worst torture, though Jackson was doing his best not to couple off with Derek constantly, which he was absolutely grateful for. Scott was busy trying to figure out how he could get Danny to forgive him, yes he'd handled the break up wrong, and yes he had essential cheated on Allison with Danny, but he was in love with the boy and not with Allison, wasn't that enough? Danny wished he hadn't fucked up so bad with Jackson, they had been through too much to let their friendship peter out just because they were pulled in opposite directions. No, that hadn't happened, the truth was Danny had fled in the opposite direction and didn't care if he left Jackson behind. But, seeing Jackson and Stiles together, BFF's and shit, it made him disgustingly jealous. It should have been him, but it wasn't, and he had no one to blame but himself. Derek wanted to keep his soon to be husband safe, and he had no clue how to do it. Derek wanted to know what was going on in his town, and didn't know how to do it…and he still had a certain question he still had to…pop, and didn't know how to do it.

Jackson too was thinking of his town, he thought of the poor sheriff with too much on his plate, he thought of the hospital and how well it ran, and realized that there was something there. The hospital was privately run, oddly enough, there were no public ones around Beacon Hills, it used to be public but for some reason it wasn't anymore. Jackson knew what was happening but really couldn't believe it, for some reason or another, public facilities around town were denying spirituals positions of any kind, it just so happened to be most obvious at the police station. The hospital had gone private in an attempt to keep the towns meddling fingers out, it allowed them to keep their staff and all the spirituals but also made it exceedingly expensive to run. The spiritual families around Beacon Hills often held fund raisers to keep its doors opened and so far it had worked, but who knew for how long. Jackson mulled over all this as their food was brought out and everyone dug in.

After the meal all four spirituals walked out of the diner sate and ready for something else. Stiles suggested heading back to the cabins and taking the short hike to the lake, this way they could know the way for when they decided they wanted to go swimming. The ride back was faster, since Derek had already memorized the way, they spent the time listening to the music on Jackson's ipod since Derek and Jackson shared the same taste. They split up at the cabins since Scott wanted to change his shirt, he got ketchup all over it, and Stiles and Jackson wanted to use the bathroom. Derek and Danny waited for the two on the trail that led off to the lake, it was awkward, both were painfully aware of it.

"So…Scott really likes being part of your family…He loves using your last name when we go out, like at the magic shop and stuff…" Danny wished he'd kept his mouth shut, he sounded like an idiot. Derek smiled at him though, he was going out of his way to be friendly to him and it just made Danny find him even hotter.

"Well I'm glad…I just wished he tried to be a bit…harder. He seems completely content on being average, there's nothing wrong with that, but I know he could do so much more. "

"That's true, he barely knows how to handle normal things, when a challenge appears he seems to just flail around and hope for the best, it normally works out okay for him though…"

Derek turned to him and gave that strange smile, the I-know-more-than-you-think smile, "Is that what he's doing with you, trying to win you back but failing miserably."

Danny blushed, so they were obvious, great, "Well…I like him, I do, I have for a long time. But I think the way we started our relationship was all wrong, we—I mean he was dating Allison, and I knew, but I didn't care, because the sex was great..." Danny felt like the biggest idiot saying that, but it was true, he'd stuck around for the sex, the feelings came later, but they came without a doubt. Danny always thought it was impossible to separate sex from emotion, especially if you have it with the same person over and over gain, it was why he stuck to one night stands, though the pickings in Beacon Hills were always slim, thank god for the internet.

"We got drunk one day, and like drunk people do, we made a rash decision. So we slept together and we said that as long as it only happened once no one needed to know,"

"Except it didn't happen only once did it?"

Danny huffed, "No it didn't, and before I knew it we were basically dating. Except without the dates or the PDA and all the stuff I love but Scott was unwilling to do, yet. Then one day he just breaks up with Allison and used me as like and accusation or something. I hated it, all the attention I got, people couldn't believe I would do something like that, come between a couple…and neither could I…"

"Well…I know a thing or two about starting a relationship wrong," Derek shook his head when he remembered the weird way he and Jackson had seduced each other, " if you're able to just talk and get all pretenses out of the way you might find yourself willing to try again. Once the bullshits laid bare it becomes easier to try for real, towards a relationship…" Danny smiled at Derek, he didn't really understand but thought maybe he was right, maybe he and Scott could still work things out and be happy, maybe.

Finally, when everyone was ready, the four spirituals made their way down the trail towards the lake. The sun was still high and the day was hot, hotter than they were used to, their home town tends to be cold and they were dressed accordingly, except for Jackson, he was too annoyed trying to cram his wings through his clothes that he didn't bother layering. They walked down the path and shed clothes as they went and finally fifteen minutes later made it to the dark waters of Lago Dulce. It was huge, it was cool, and it was beautiful.

They mulled around its muddy edges in silence while they stared out at the large expanse of water. The water was perfectly still and shone like a mirror reflecting the world back at them, upside down. Jackson went to Derek and without thinking about it, if he thought about it he wouldn't do it, so he didn't, he just grabbed Derek's hand and interlocked their fingers. Derek squeezed his hand hard and Jackson felt himself relaxing, the other three boys were busy skipping rocks across the water and seeing who could throw it farthest. All of Danny's rocks kept sinking the instant he threw them, Scott's skipped twice before sinking beneath the water, Stiles was the only one who knew how to do it, he showed the others how to hold the rock so that when they threw it the rock would spin and skip far.

Jackson looked at Derek and for the first time in a long time, just allowed himself to study the man's face, the angular bones and dark shading of hair. Jackson really thought he was amazing looking, rugged and manly, and yet Jackson knew he was gentle and kind. It was a strange dichotomy, Derek's angry and cruel outside and his kind and loving inside. It reminded Jackson of himself, his kind looking and beautiful outside and his dark and damaged inside. Jackson laughed to himself feeling a tinge of his inner darkness taint the world around him, he was so happy, he realized, or at least he had been. He was with his friends in a place far from the "real world", a place were they could finally just be themselves and enjoy each other without being afraid of being judged or bothered or anything really…Jackson didn't deserve it, at least he felt he didn't…but only sometimes, when he was at his darkest…He felt the brush of Derek's fingers on the inside of his hand and with that he felt his dark thoughts vanish from his mind. He and Derek were good, and now they would finally get to spend some time together, finally.

When the sun set, they all walked back to the cabins, Danny and Scott ran ahead as Scott chased Danny, they had their ephemeral parts out, Danny's wings flapped behind him as he ran and his halo shone bright and strong. Scott's stubby horns were out, his tail swished behind him as he ran. Jackson had an arm thrown over Stiles' shoulder, he was happy, and he wanted to share it with everyone, they were laughing now, Jackson told Stiles he was in love with Derek and Stiles asked Jackson if he was drunk, Jackson said he was, on love. They laughed at how ridiculous Jackson sounded. Derek brought up the rear and watched his mate shine with happiness, his halo cast a bright orange light across the whole forest and lit it like a miniature sun. Derek couldn't believe how beautiful he was.

When they reached the branch in the trials that led to each cabin the group parted, Derek, Scott, and Danny to one side while Jackson and Stiles went to the other.

"So…there's food in each cabin so we can have breakfast there, then I think we can spend the day at the lake does that sound good?" Derek asked and everyone agreed. Danny and Scott waved at Jackson and Stiles and started down the path, Derek turned but Jackson grabbed his hand.

"You haven't properly said good bye to me," said Jackson a suggestive tilt to his voice.

"Oh," said Derek, "what did you have in mind exactly," he wrapped his arms around the by and pulled him close, Jackson smiled before leaning in and pressing his lips against the older mans. The kiss was far too short for Derek, it left him frustrated and hungry, and the worst part was he knew that was exactly what Jackson wanted. Derek growled and Jackson laughed before throwing an arm around Stiles and walking away. Derek turned around and ignored the shocked look on Scott and Danny's face, but couldn't keep the smile off his own face.

"What the fuck was that!?" Called Scott from somewhere behind Derek, the older man just ignored him, he was thinking of the things he and Jackson could do, all the places they could go to be alone and enjoy each others company, Derek laughed, yes, he wanted to 'enjoy' Jackson's company more than anything. He reached the cabin and unlocked the door before walking in and grabbing a bottle of water out of the fridge.

Scott ran in after him and just stared with his mouth hanging open. Danny entered behind him and closed the door, he too looked utterly confused. Derek couldn't help the strange sort of amusement that brought him, again this was another example of Jackson controlling everyone and everything around him. Derek didn't know what he was trying to tell which boy, but he thought maybe he just wanted to show them he was happy.

Stiles dreamt of water that night, he dreamt of his mother dipping him into the lake as a child, she held him across the chest and slowly lowered him and raised him, bounced him on the crystalline surface, this was before then, before she was…_Clang. _ Stiles remembered how she laughed, they way it rang around the forest, made the light brighter, and the air lighter, Stiles always laughed back with pure joy, something he wasn't sure he was capable of anymore. _Clang. _He dreamt of his father dressed in black and crying, clutching an empty bottle. They were in their house, in the kitchen, the room was dark, his father looked at him and his face contorted, he let out another anguished sob, in sadness and hatred, Stiles always felt his father blamed him for his mother's death. _Clang. _The shadows from outside stretched in through the window and made a grab for Stiles, he ran, stumbled up the stairs and hit his head, and fell into his room. He breathed and stared up at the ceiling and watched as the sun rose from outside, he cried. _Clang._ Stiles opened his eyes and saw Jackson, they were still new friends then, were still learning about each other, Stiles was always surprised by things he learned about the angelic, how much in common they actually had, he and Jackson were solid now and Stiles cherished his friendship. He remembered Jackson had taken him to the school he worked at; the kids went crazy when they saw his newly manifested wings, they touched and prodded and pulled, and Jackson just laughed and chased them and picked them over his head, his halo shone so bright, a crown kissed by the sun, and for a brief second Stiles had been reminded of his mother, and together they laughed and played. _Clang. _Stiles' dreamed warped, it twisted and pulled around itself and suddenly he was trapped in the complete works of Edgar Allen Poe. He watched as someone slowly sealed him off behind a wall, brick by brick, until all that was left was the tiniest source of light which died when the final brick was shoved into place. Stiles watched as a fucking orangutan lurched towards him, and pounced and trashed and ripped at his flesh, his wings, Stiles couldn't get away until he landed on the ocean, there, a man cried for his wife, oh his poor Annabel Lee, Stiles felt the ground beneath him suck him under and push him out beneath a house, there above him, the slow trickle of blood from the still beating heart. _Clang._ He ran up the stairs, through a dark house, as he reached the front door he heard the cry of 'nevermore'. He pushed the door open and all he heard was the tolling of the bells, alarum bells, what a tale of terror now their turbulence foretells! _CLANG._

Stiles opened his eyes as the dream disappeared. He was in the cabin alone, Jackson's bed was made and empty, Stiles groaned when he heard it again, _Clang._ He got out of bed and saw on the kitchen table, his breakfast. He noticed the note next to the plate, "_Hey bitch, come out side and watch me kick Derek's ass!" _Stiles chuckled and grabbed his breakfast. Outside he walked a few feet into the woods, all he had to do was follow the sound of steel on steel. He found the couple in the center of the woods, inside a clearing. They were going at each other with all their strength, Jackson swung his long sword around him while Derek tried to break through his defenses. Jackson had his dark cloak thrown on the floor and his silver armor shone in the light and blinded Stiles. His huge black wings constantly moved, they helped Jackson keep balance as he swung his sword and danced around the clearing. Derek raised his hand and the ground burst into thick mud, Jackson started sinking into it, he struggled and Derek ran straight at him, Jackson flapped his wings and a wave of mud hit Derek straight in the face, knocking him back. Jackson flapped his wings downward and launched himself into the sky, Stiles watched amazed, as Jackson jumped out of the mud and landed in front of Derek just as the man wiped the mud off his face, Jackson swung, Derek caught the sword on the long teeth of his own sword and they wrestled.

Both men were huffing and puffing, Derek had a deep scowl on his face, Jackson had a sly grin on his. "Want to see my new trick," asked Jackson waggling his eyebrows at the older man, Derek's tail whipped out and wrapped around the boys neck. Jackson let it happen, he brought his hand up and then down right across the blade of his sword breaking it two. He grabbed the other piece and brought it straight across Derek's tail, the older man hissed and pushed Jackson away. Jackson spun and in his hands he held his twin short swords, Heaven and Hell he called them, Jackson danced.

Derek was pushed back as Jackson's light speed blows rained down all around him, Stiles could see the small nicks and cuts as blood slowly oozed out of them. Derek turned to magic again, he summoned a blaze of fire into his hands and sent a stream shooting straight at Jackson, Stiles was reminded of a flame thrower, it hit Jackson square in the face, and he didn't even flinch. No, Jackson caught fire, his cloak disappeared off the ground and reappeared on him and it blazed. Jackson's wings caught fire along with his halo and his attacks never relented. Derek summoned more fire and blasted it everywhere, Stiles heard someone behind him gasp. Scott and Danny had come straight from bed, their hair was disheveled and they only had pajama bottoms on.

Suddenly Stiles felt a heat wave crash over him, he raised a small magical shield with his hybrid grace. Derek had turned the ground to molten lava, Jackson's armor slowly began to glow red, he raised his wings up high and with on solid flap he launched himself into the sky. Jackson flew high and with a powerful gust from his wings and a little grace, Jackson cooled the lava to black ash. Derek leaped and swung his sword Jackson just flew higher. Stiles couldn't turn away, angelics couldn't fly, that's what they had been told all their lives, the last flying angelics had died long ago…

Jackson dove and kicked Derek right in the center of his chest and sent him flying against a tree, Jackson was there suddenly Heaven and Hell were held against Derek's throat, crossed in an X trapping the mans head.

"Your dead," said Jackson and dove in for a kiss, never releasing his swords or the man's head, he dominated, he won, that was his right. Stiles tried hard not to notice the way Derek's tail curled around Jackson's thigh and squeezed, or the tiny little drop of shiny oil that appeared on the surface of Jackson's feathers. Instead, he turned his head and saw the awkward way Scott and Danny stood around, Stiles realized that seeing Derek and Jackson together was a vision of the way the two boys could be.

Jackson finally removed his swords from around Derek's neck and remade his long sword, God's Wrath. Finstock told Jackson that all the best swords men named their weapons, so Jackson agonized over what to name his, he was happy with what he came up with, of course he hadn't told anyone.

Derek laughed and allowed his armor to fade away, Jackson did the same. Then Jackson lifted his hand, and with a small amount of grace, remade the forest around them, he called on nature and allowed it to blossom like it never had before. The ash from the lava made the best fertilizer and strong trees and flowers sprouted from the black ground, lush green grass grew out as well.

Jackson turned to Stiles, "See, told you I'd kick his ass." Jackson nodded, as if that was the only possibility, Derek just smiled and shook his head, Danny and Scott were at a loss for words.

"Alright everyone get dressed, I'll make some sandwiches and bring a couple of the things Scott brought and we can spend the day at the lake," said Derek as he walked towards Scott. Jackson threw his arm around Stiles and walked away, Derek watched them go with a smile on his face. The fight had been completely exhilarating and fucking sexy as hell, he shook his head to clear his thoughts and walked through the woods to get back to the cabin, the other two boys followed close behind.

"So…are you ever going to tell me what that's about," asked Scott, he was pissed and he wasn't really sure why. Maybe it was seeing Jackson fight like an expert swordsman, or his full set of arm, or the way he did magic as if it were the simplest thing in the world, or the fact that once in his life Scott thought he was amazing and was once again out shone by that fucking jock…So maybe he was a little bitter, but Jackson was an ass, he didn't deserve it, not the way Scott did. Then again Scott never studied like he knew Jackson did, and he never practiced his swordplay, like the hours he knew Jackson put in, or that fact that Jackson's angelic powers had been sealed away and released so suddenly he almost died…_'Shit'_, so Scott didn't really have a leg to stand on but…he deserved it more, didn't he?

"He can fly…" Danny was stunned, his mother had told him stories, made him promise never to repeat them, and Danny never had, not even to Jackson. She told him that long ago angelics didn't have to take the jobs they were forced into now, they didn't have to be doctors, or priest, or therapists, no, she said that long ago there were a group of angelics that roamed the land cleansing the earth of everything that was evil and full of sin. They purified the land, she said, and each one of them had a special talent. Some of them could forgive all mortal sins, other could pass judgment on a human soul and send it either to heaven or hell, cure all mortal illnesses, and even give prophecies from God himself. She said that these angelics were born from real angels, the archangels themselves, that they could fly and feel Gods heavenly presence. Danny had always thought his mother was a religious nut, though she never stopped loving him, never bat an eyelash at his coming out, she even seemed to have expected it…

The water was cold when Derek jumped in, but the day was hot and that made the cool waters exquisite. Scott and Stiles were busy splashing each other as hard as they could, Danny swam far into the center of the lake and dove down beneath its mirrored surface and disappeared. Jackson sat on the edge of lake watching them, because of his wings he couldn't get in the water, but he could wet his feet. Derek hadn't wanted to leave him but Jackson insisted, practically forced Derek into the water. The older man swam a few laps before he got bored. He swam back to the muddy edge and to Jackson.

"You know you don't have to be here because of me,"

"I know but I got bored of swimming laps,"

"Go play with Scott," said Jackson and smiled, Derek rolled his eyes before sitting next to the angelic. The two watched the other boy's rough housing and playing. Danny would swim beneath the surface and grab one of the boys and pull them down, Scott and Stiles were busy trying to wrestle Danny to the surface. Jackson stretched his wings and allowed them to settle over Derek's shoulder. They stayed for hours and ate Derek's huge sandwiches, the man stuffed as much meat as he could between the two slices of bread and they were almost impossible to eat. They ate Scott's junk food and drank all their soda that first day, they decided that tomorrow they would visit the small town near the lake and do some shopping. It was a tourist town, though Stiles didn't remember why.

Jackson decided that he had the best idea in the world, "Hey Stiles…want to know what its like to fly…" Stiles looked at the boy and frantically shook his head. Jackson grabbed Stiles around the chest as hard as he could before he launched himself straight into the sky, Stiles screamed. And when Jackson dove towards the lake he whooped. When he landed Scott and Danny were there and Jackson felt he had to give them a ride as well, which he did. He saved Derek for last, he launched into the sky as hard as he could and when he saw the lake shrink below him he bent backwards and dove.

When the sun had set and the woods grew dark they set back to their cabins, Danny and Scott were holding hands and Stiles actually didn't care, that made him smile. Derek and Jackson padded behind them and when they reached the fork in the trail they leaned in and kissed. Tomorrow they would head to the tourist town and enjoy any sights they had to offer and Derek couldn't wait, because he had a plan, he would make this the best vacation Jackson had ever had and on Tuesday, before they left, Derek would ask Jackson to marry him, and everything would be okay, because it had to be, it just did.


	11. Chapter 11

The tourist town was more of a long street that stretched for a mile or two, both sides were lined with shops and museums and different arrays of restaurants. That was the main tourist section of town, the rest were residential homes. That same street stretched deep through the woods and ended in a scenic walking trail that led to the opposite side of Lago Dulce, their cabins were directly across it. There were historical sites dotted along the trail, old houses and preserved parks with different natural and historical information written on placards that were placed everywhere.

The four spirituals drove down Main Street and finally pulled up to a diner that Stiles remembered having the best food. The street was busier than they thought it'd be, people moved around as if there were some busy event going on, but the group figured this was the only place in town to get the things they needed, not like in Beacon Hills that had different types of super markets and specialty stores scattered everywhere.

They all piled out of Jackson's truck and out onto the street. People turned to look at them curiously, but not rudely, and the small group of spirituals was able to ignore it and enter the restaurant. The place was called Heaven's Rest and was decorated in pale white's and greens, it was nicer than they expected but still on the corny side, small little cherubs glared at them from where they were nailed into the four corners of the place. The waitresses and cooks wore fake halos around their heads, they were attached to a sweat band with a thin wire, the halos themselves were made of plastic and looked like tinsel. Jackson, Danny, and Stiles stared at them and tried very hard not to feel completely insulted; it was completely racist, like wearing black face. Jackson looked up at his glowing crown and couldn't help smiling, now these people could see what a _real _halo looked like, Danny was too embarrassed to reveal his own halo and instead coughed to clear some of the tension. They were seated at a table at the back of the restaurant, Jackson's wings made it impossible to sit at a booth, but they were okay with the arrangement. As the waitress walked away the group noticed a pair of wings that decorated the back of her uniform and the two angelics gave each other looks, Jackson gave Danny 'the look', and Danny snorted.

"So…if I remember correctly… I think they have amazing waffles here and I think the blueberry pancakes were really good. My dad also used to order the potato thingys with the meat in it, he said it was good and Derek seems like the type of guy who'd eat something like that," Stiles told everyone what he remembered was good while they all looked at the menu. Not much had changed since Stiles had been to the place and the menus were exactly the same. Danny ordered the blue berry pancakes, Jackson the egg white omelet with spinach, Derek obviously had to get the corn beef hash, while Scott and Stiles both ordered waffles with extra whipped cream.

"So have we figured out what this town is? I mean why is it a tourist attraction? It's obviously historic somehow," said Jackson as they all waited for their orders.

"Well I remember it having to do with spirituals but not why, like, I don't know what about spirituals…" The group turned from Stiles to the people sitting around them. There actually weren't any spirituals in the place, or outside, almost everyone was human. It was kind of creepy. But their food arrived and that thought was pushed out of their minds.

They ate their food and were surprised to find how delicious it actually was, Danny's pancakes were amazingly fluffy, there were so many blue berries they actually stained the batter blue, Derek's hash had thick chunks of potatoes and delicious pieces of corned beef, Scott and Stiles' waffles were incredibly decadent and towered with whipped cream, Jackson's egg white omelet was creamy and the spinach was actually delicious rather than bitter and watery. It was the best breakfast they'd had since arriving at the lake and helped rid them of the tension they had about walking around a new town.

They paid their bill and walked out onto the busy street. The four stood around not sure what to do when Jackson spoke up, "Why don't we go to that museum," he said and pointed across the street, "It'll probably tell us what this place is about." With that Jackson started across the street while the other four followed behind. The people around them stared as they made their way to the museum, even with his wings pulled against his body, Jackson kept knocking people out of his way. Derek wondered why they kept doing it, why they kept looking at them as if they were something…special, he shook his head and followed the others into the old building.

"AHHHH!" squealed the museum curator and completely terrified Derek as the museum door slammed closed behind him. The demonic flinched and his tail whipped around and hit Scott square in the face.

"What the fuck Derek! OW!" Scott brought his hand up and cupped the side of his face where a red welt was beginning to form. Danny grabbed Scott's hand and pulled it away to examine the bruise, it wasn't bad, Danny brought his hand up with the only healing spell he knew and wiped away the red welt and the pain it brought the smaller demonic. Danny smiled at Scott and the boy blushed, Jackson rolled his eyes, Scott was the biggest pussy he knew. Derek apologized while the curator continued to squeal like some teenage super fan.

"FAINLLY! Spirituals! I've been waiting for days, no! For like months now, we don't get many spirituals anymore, not since; well let's not talk about that now, we'll save that for later! I'm so excited!" the curator was a women in her early thirties, she wore a pair of khakis and a blue flower print button up, she looked like the quint essential house wife, like someone you would find inside an Ikea catalogue with a gaggle of children surrounding her. She had a dark tan complexion and long black hair that cascaded in waves down her shoulders. Her eyes were the shape of almonds and their color was a bright green, Jackson thought she was Mexican, or at least Hispanic.

"Welcome!" she yelled and the group of spirituals flinched, the women was loud and overly excited, "Welcome to the town of Del Cielo, it was founded in the early 1840's as a settlement for all the people who rushed to California in an attempt to make their fortune in gold!" The women spread her arms wide in front of her as if she were stepping through a curtain, "It didn't become an official city until the 1900's once the gold rush was well under way."

She leaned in then, towards Jackson, as if to share a secret, "That's how the town started but not why it's famous. See the people who rushed west in the late 1800's heard a legend from the local Mexicans and native Americans, they were told that long ago, when the land was still wild and humans had barely stepped foot into the America's, there once was a small village here, right were our town is. Depending one who's telling it its either a small settlement of Mexicans or native Americans, the point is there was a village here, this is historical and anthropological fact, they've found the remains of an old village," the women took a deep breath as the four spirituals stared at her, "the legend says that long ago there was a time when the sun didn't rise. The world was plunged into darkness so deep even fire could barely penetrate it. The people prayed for the sun to return and one day—when they had run out of food, when their only fire was on the verge of going out—two stars fell from the sky. In their wake came the glorious orb of light we know of as the sun. The two stars fell into the lake nearby; we know it as Lago Dulce, and from its depths rose two people, one had large wings and a glowing halo of light above their head, the other had a long pointed tail and large horns…and if the legend is true than our little town of Del Cielo is the birth place of all spirituals." The Women ended her long speech with a deep breath and flourish of her hands which even Stiles thought was over the top. The four spirituals stood there with nothing to say, stunned. Mostly, they were trying to process what the woman had said.

"Well don't just stand there come in, come in, come on," she wove her arms through Jackson's and led him deeper into the museum, past the front reception and into their main exhibit, she paid no mind to the many things Jackson's wings knocked to the ground as he was pulled deeper into the museum. The group behind him straightened everything that fell to the floor before running after the two.

The three spirituals finally caught up with Jackson in the next room. The room of the museum they were in had the basic town facts, it spoke of the gold rush and what it was, when it happened, and how it led to the formation of the town they were in. Underneath glass cases they could see old pickaxes and helmets, they could see hunks of different minerals, even gold, it was all very generic for a museum. The room after that had information about the tribe that once occupied the area long before the 49'ers ever reached it, but most of it were accounts taken from other Native American tribes and even some Mexicans that travelled far north into California. Here they found old journal pages that had been blown up and pasted on the walls and most told of the story about the spiritual birth place. The back of the museum was dedicated to the origins of the spirituals and to spiritual history itself, and it was utterly amazing, the three spirituals stood stunned as Jackson was pulled into the center of the room, he pulled his arm away from the crazy women and hid behind Derek as the women turned to catch him.

The area dominated the biggest portion of the museum and had information on angelics and demonics; it was more information than the four spirituals had ever seen. There were examples of early clothing and the way it accommodated wings and tails, strange ancient decorations that once adorned halos and horns. There was a list of different jobs that angelics and demonics had once been able to take, like Soul Dealers, angelics and demonics who took the souls of other people to grant them their deepest wish, or Faith Healers people who didn't heal through faith but rather healed people's faith, or even something as weird as tempters and seducers, people who were hired to tempt and seduce other people to test their strength and resolve. Jackson become engrossed in the list and even used his phone to take pictures of it.

"What most people don't know," said the women, startling everyone, she was incredibly loud, "is that for years angelics and demonics have been pushed out of jobs that had once been dominated by them. While we aren't quite sure when this trend started we know for a fact it's very recent, I'd say it happened in the past hundred years, so quickly in fact that most of us didn't notice. Schools teach children that angelics are pious while demonics are sneaky which is why angelics make great doctors and demonics make great politicians. While most of this information isn't actually false—societal and cultural expectations have made it so—the growing trend we've seen is that spirituals haven been systematically marginalized." She ended her speech with a strange sort of sadness in her voice, regardless to the way she acted this women actually knew what she was talking about.

After an hour of browsing and forced learning they all piled into a small gift shop that deposited back into the lobby. Danny wanted to buy a few postcards, Scott and Derek fought over a pair of necklaces that were said to increase demonic taint powers, the older man said they were legit and his younger charge wanted them for himself. Stiles and Jackson walked out into the lobby and waited for the others to come out.

The curator walked towards them and smiled sadly, "We don't get many spirituals here anymore, most people don't believe our towns little legend, even I think its most likely just old stories…but we've been having weird attacks around town lately, spirituals have been targeted and travel sites that were tailored towards spirituals have been warning people to stay away and things have been…tense since then. There have been firebombing and vandalizing, and all sorts of horrible things," she smiled at the two before continuing, "I felt like I needed to warn you," she sighed, "Be careful," she said and grabbed Jackson arm and gave it a strong reassuring squeeze. "God, you are just too pretty for your own good," she said before letting go of Jackson's arm and walked away into a private office. Jackson was left red in the face while Stiles giggled to himself. The other spirituals finally finished buying their tourist crap and the four exited the museum.

They spent the rest of the day walking down Main Street and doing some, what Jackson considered, light shopping. Jackson found an old antique oil bottle with a dark box to match it. The bottle was made out of thick green glass that would make the oil inside it glow, it shape was delicate and curved; it resembled a small wine decanter. The box was a dark thing made of thick wood, it was enchanted to never break anything that was put inside it if the box were ever to fall, the inside was lined with the softest velvet Jackson had ever touched and was a deep beautiful purple. Jackson also found a plain wood ring, magic had been used to infuse the wood with angelic silver—a metal that was made by infusing heavenly adamantine with normal silver, all through magical metallurgy—it was beautiful and Jackson did have a gift he needed to give a certain demonic, now he just had to add something made by himself. The ring was supposedly enchanted to make its wearer never lose the ring.

Jackson found an old second hand military style trench coat, it supposedly was a military coat used in world war two but there was no way to actually prove that, it was black with a high collar and ended right at mid-thigh, he knew Derek would look hot as fuck in it, so he bought it. He found another trench for himself, it was designer made and cost three thousand dollars, but Jackson had the money, and it fit him perfectly, as if it were made for him, the wing holes it came with were even his size. The boutique seller was even shocked; he said most people who tried the coat on didn't buy it since the wing holes were ridiculously huge. The designer was the owner of the store, an older angelic woman who had the longest life story she insisted on telling the four demonics. But what patience bought them was a massive discount and Jackson was able to buy the trench and the other three demonics their own winter Jackets for only two thousand dollars, no one complained, what was the point of being rich if you couldn't buy the things you wanted?

They spent several hours in an antique magic shop that had everything a spiritual would ever want to perform their art. Scott was the only one who was bored, he spent most of the time just browsing before he came across the most amazing thing he'd ever seen, it was a notebook made for wizards who forget their spells easily, it was enchanted to never run out of paper and never to get big, but the most amazing part was the enchantment that made it so a wizard only had to think of the spell they wanted to use before it appeared on the first page. Jackson found an old angelic military magic book made specifically for sorcerers and filled with offensive spells. There were spells to summon clouds of poisonous gas and spells for summoning a murder of crows that would consume a person down to the bones. It was amazing and cost several thousand dollars, but the shop owner gave them all massive discounts and Jackson bought five books, a few crystals—used for storing magical energy—and even one of the notebooks that Scott had bought, though he did by a more ornate one. Derek found a marker that could write anywhere, literally, even in empty air and would make his spell weaving infinitely easier and more versatile. Danny didn't find anything too special but still bought many items, people didn't know it but Danny was actually born being able to do two different magical styles, his father's enchanting and his mother's weaving, it wasn't an advantage since it meant he had to learn twice as much information as other spirituals. Stiles found a polaroid camera that had infinite film and instantly printed the picture.

The shopping ended when they reached the nature trail and they all returned to Jackson's truck and stuffed it with everything they'd bought. They a trip to the Diner, Heaven's Rest, and bought lunch there and something to go. They walked all the way back to the nature trail and followed it deep into the woods. They passed several houses that had been restored to show something that had once been found during the gold rush. The first thing they came across was a bunk house that was customized to house angelics that had once gone down deep underground to find gold. That meant having taller and wider doors to accommodate wings, instead of regular bath tubs they had large almost pool like things that were filled with water and heated with magic, it allowed angelics to soak their bodies and wings and get thoroughly clean, Scott and Derek had no idea that angelics needed such large tubs, Danny didn't understand, the tubs in his house were exactly the same. Derek asked Jackson what he did and Jackson was embarrassed to admit that he had to bath outside now, he had to fill big tubs with water and let them soak like that, it was uncomfortable and inconvenient but Jackson had no clue that there was a special bath tub that angelics had to use. Danny suddenly felt bad, if they had been on better terms he could have helped Jackson, there was so much he could have told the other boy about being an angelic.

From there they continued on and passed by gardens that had ancient native plants, all with different magical and medicinal properties. They walked past an old mine shaft and the four spirituals walked inside it, saw the way magic was used to hold the walls up and to prevent cave ins. Stiles didn't want to go in but, surrounded by his friends, he was brave enough to enter and look around. They walked for hours and in the evening they finally reached the shores of Lago Dulce. They are their food and watched as the sun slowly dipped beneath the tree line, orange shafts of light shoot out from between the trees and blinded them, it was incredibly serene.

They walked back into town at night, darkness dominated the small calm forest once the sun disappeared. Jackson cast a giant ball of light from his hand and it hovered above them and lite their path. They could hear the quite rustle of animals in the underbrush, Danny clung to Scott the whole way, he was sure that a bear or a wolf would jump out and eat them any second. It took them two hours to get out of the forest and another half to get back to Jackson's truck.

The drive home was quiet and long, they drove down the dark lonely roads lined with tall imposing trees. Time seemed to stop as they drove, each person was in their own world, physically they were exhausted, but mentally their minds turned, they learned so much in such a short time they were having some difficulty processing it all.

When they reached the main office they all piled out of Jackson's truck. No words were spoken; they just split up and walked towards their beds. Most of them slept the night away in dreamless sleep. It was almost like they were under a spell, their bodies just shut off as their minds expanded.

Derek opened his eyes and knew instantly that he was still asleep; he was in some sort of lucid dream…sort of. He wasn't exactly dreaming, he didn't know where he was, he looked around and saw a shadow moving towards him, it was huge and Derek felt a small tingle shot down his back, the starts of fear. As the shadow approached it became clearer and more defined, it was a person with giant wings darker than the shadows that surrounded it, Derek sighed in relief. Jackson finally reached him and smiled.

They walked through this strange dark place hand in hand, there was no substance, no ground or sky, Derek didn't even know if they were walking.

"Where are we," asked the demonic.

"We're in the space between reality and dreams,"

"How do you know?"

Jackson shrugged, "I just do," he said and pulled Derek forward towards a darker pool of inky blackness and then he jumped, and pulled Derek with him. They fell.

Derek felt as if he were passing through water, he and Jackson began to kick upwards, towards light. It seemed to take forever, but the further up they swam the lighter it became until, finally, they broke surface.

The sun was out, high and hot, they rose onto a muddy island with one large tree surrounded by a ring of thick colorful flowers. It was as if the saturation in the place had been turned up high, the sky was a bright blue that almost hurt Derek's eyes, the lake water was crystal clear and reflected everything, the grass was neon green and flowers seemed to glow. Together they crawled onto the surface and fell on their backs and looked up at the sky through the branches of the large tree. Derek panted and felt the heat of the sun on his body like a warm blanket, in this place, surrounded by light Derek felt loved. He thought—he turned to Jackson, the boy was watching him closely with a small smile on his face—and Derek knew where he was, this was Jackson's world, the place he kept his soul and his grace. Derek's own 'place', the place his soul lived in side him, had always been his old house, Jackson's was this place of natural beauty and peace.

Derek pointed, at the sun, "What is that?" He asked, though he thought maybe he knew what it was.

Jackson smiled, "That's my grace," he said and stretched his hand out to the sun shining high above them. Derek watched as light collected around his hand until a small orb had formed. He held the orb out to Derek; the older man took it into his hands and felt the light flow through his veins, through his body, as it settled into his soul. It felt like being filled with love, which made no sense to Derek, but that's what it felt like, as if—he just didn't understand—but he didn't want it to stop.

Demonic grace felt like fire, Derek always felt as if it filled his body until it felt like it was going to explode, and the only thing it made him feel was angry. This was so different it made him want to cry. Suddenly Jackson was there, they kissed and rolled around on the muddy shore as Jackson's love shone down onto them.

The group spent the weekend spread out and far apart from each other, Scott and Danny had run of early in the morning and the other three didn't really want to know where they were. Derek, Jackson, and Stiles spent Saturday practicing their magic. Derek and Jackson fought as Stiles watched, Jackson practiced one of the new spells he'd read in his book, from his own shadow he summoned grasping tendrils that wrapped around Derek's arms and legs as Jackson dashed forward and attacked.

After Jackson had won he wanted to test Stiles' fighting skill, but the boy had none to speak of so all three of them practiced. Derek and Jackson gave Stiles lessons as the boy struggled through the most basic of motions. Stiles didn't have a sword like the rest of the group, the boy had a long bow, it literally stretched from his feet to the top of his head. The bow itself was made of two slightly curved blades, the center of the bow was wrapped in thick leather where Stiles held on to it, a thick unbreakable string stretched from tip to tip. It was a hybrid weapon no one knew how to use, it was why Stiles never learned to use it, there was no one to teach him.

Jackson took Stiles' weapon in his hands and turned it around and got a feel for it. He swung it like a sword and new instantly that that was wrong. Jackson realized that the weapon had a short range and couldn't be swung with his arms alone, he needed to use his whole body. Jackson spun left, right, then ducked low and summoned three arrows made of grace and fired them into a tree. The bow was still a bow after all and was meant to be used as a long range weapon. Since it was a long bow Stiles would be more of a sniper than anything else, the blades were meant to strike any enemies who got too close. Jackson summoned more arrows and fired a shot to a tree spun left and ducked, shot, spun right and shot, and then shot a special arrow upward. Stiles and Derek watched as the arrow shot into the sky and then burst into a million pieces of grace that rained down on the ground in a deadly swarm.

They spent the rest of the weekend teaching Stiles how to use his weapon, it was actually fun for Derek and Jackson, Derek was a teacher at heart, Jackson was somehow a weapons master, it seemed. Derek did wonder how it was that Jackson had been able to learn so much about a weapon by just swinging it around a few minutes. Sunday night Jackson dug a huge hole behind his cabin and made a huge bon fire. Scott and Danny reappeared and they spent the night telling ghost stories and roasting marshmallows. Danny had the best stories and Derek made the best s'mores, Jackson could only burn his marshmallows into a black crisp and all Scott's always ended up falling into the fire.

Monday morning they decided to head back into Del Cielo one more time. They ate at the diner again, Heavens Rest, and found it completely empty. There were only two people in the whoe restaurant, the cook and an older waitress. The whole thing had been ackward, the waitress wouldn't look them in the eye and when they'd finished their meal the cook came out to thank them. "But you guys should really go…Our town is, well I don't know of any other way to put it, but our town is under attack. One of those Anti-Spiritual militias has been doing terrible things and well yesterday they set up like a attack center in the town square." They left the Diner not knowing how to feel or whether or not to believe the man, because why would he lie?

As they walked back out onto Main Street they noticed that there were far fewer people on the streets this time, instead there were a lot more police men walking the streets, there were even patrol cars that kept driving past, it was frighteningly eerie. As they continued walking the group noticed that most of the shops were closed, their front doors were screened and most even had wooden boards hammered across all the windows and the entrances. Nothing was open, they walked down the street slowly and completely on edge.

Then they reached the old antique magic store and they knew they had to get out, nothing of it was left but ashes. The four stood dumbfounded before they heard the loud sonic bomb of an explosion. Jackson turned and lifted his hands, the others felt the prickle of magic on their skin as Jackson's spell took effect.

"What did you do?" Asked Derek as he lowered his hands from his ears, the others were doing the same.

"Invisibility spell," said Jackson as he started walking towards the site of the explosion. All the policemen were headed in that direction as well. The radio chatter on their walkies let the four spirituals know that a large group had formed in the town square. The explosion had destroyed parts of the mayor's office, the rest was on fire but there was no one there to put it out, since different magical shields had been set up around town to keep emergency services out. There was a spiritual out there working against their own people.

In the square was a group of people dressed in black there, from head to toe, they all wore blank white masks that completely hid their faces. There was a police line around them across the street, barricades had been set up and were used to hide behind, a group of witches were in a corner chanting out some type of spell. The group in black were all armed, some with guns, some with swords, some even had Molotov cocktails. Jackson could see that someone had formed a protective shield around the attackers, someone within their group could do magic, which meant that someone within that group was a spiritual. Jackson hadn't forgotten what the museum curator had said, about the attacks against spirituals in town, it didn't take an idiot to see what that this group was the anti-spiritual group.

They were in mass, on a make shift stage, the police officers were telling them to release their hostages. Danny started begging them to leave, he didn't want to get mixed up in it, Jackson turned to Danny and couldn't believe what a coward the boy was, Stiles had an almost angry look on his face, Scott just looked scared while Derek looked ready to take on an army. As they approached they heard a loud gun shoot and the crowd screamed, there on the stage fell a demonic, shot through the head. There was a man, he held the gun in his black gloved hands, he was clearly the leader, around his neck he had the white collar of a priest.

"Are we not tired of these abominations living among us, are we not sick of their blasphemy and their dark powers! Why do we let them live, why do we let them live among our friends and family! They go against everything we know, they are sick and have no right to live!" As the man gave his speech he pulled a child from a woman's arms. She screamed and clung to his small little body, someone in black brought the blunt end of his sword against the woman's head and knocked her to the floor unconscious. Danny was pulling on Jackson's arms as he walked closer and closer to the group.

"Jackson please let's just go! This isn't fun anymore, we don't have to get mixed up in this, we don't even know what they're doing!" Danny was scared; he still remembered the attack at the school and how afraid he'd been, if Scott hadn't been there Danny suspected he'd probably be dead. Danny couldn't believe that something like this was happening outside of Beacon Hills, he couldn't believe that there were people out there who hated him for no other reason than because he'd been born different.

The man on stage lifted the boy up to into the air by a chunk of his hair, he pulled out a dagger and held it across the boy's throat, "People of Del Cielo, for your blasphemy and acceptance of this scourge on our planet we sentence you to death, this town is disgusting in the way it flaunts its—its—_tolerance. _And for that we sentence you all to death, starting with this child." The crowd started screaming, there were all almost human except for a few a few spirituals that started flinging magic at the shield just to watch it bounce off. The man lifted his arm and the dagger shone bright in the deadly in the rays of the sun before he brought it down in a powerful arch. The crowd screamed, the police were preparing for an all-out attack, this was going to be a blood bath, an army against a police force and citizens.

The dagger never reached its victim, the knife stopped, seemingly in thin air. Derek looked around him and knew it was fucking Jackson. The invisibility spell slowly slipped off of Jackson's skin and he was there, holding the man's arm. Jackson grabbed the kid and tossed him into the crowd, through the militias shield, which was nothing for Jackson, before bending the man's arm and breaking it in half.

"You are disgusting person who has no right to wear that collar," Jackson's black wings were high in the air displaying his anger and power, his halo glowed neon red, the iris' of his eyes glowed that same deep red and smoke rose off his body, "you've killed people and hurt people all in the name of some god who's words you've decided to twist and turn and poison with hate, because that's what you are, a hate monger, you spew poison from your mouth and pass it off as truth and the stupid people behind you believe you, they follow you…even worship you." In a flurry faster than any one had seen the priest pulled another knife out from up his sleeve and sunk the sharp blade deep into Jackson's throat. The boy didn't flinch, no blood poured out of the wound, fire oozed out from within his body, his wings burst into flames as his crown did as well, it swelled twice as large and floated high above him.

"You fool, you know nothing of God! God is love, he is mercy, he is understanding and you stand hear and call us the abominations! Anyone who can take what God teaches and twist it into what you have is the true abomination. I have felt the light of god upon my grace and I will not allow people like you threaten this world and the people upon it, I will not let hate consume this planet, I WILL NOT LET YOU HURT THE PEOPLE I LOVE!"

Heaven and Hell fell from the heavens as two flaming swords, one cleaved the false priest in two, his body never hit the ground, it simply crumbled into ash and burst in the wind. Jackson turned to the army of hate mongers, a man tossed a magical grenade at him, and it burst in Jackson face and did nothing. Jackson flung his sword, it landed among the black army and from its tip flames erupted and consumed those trapped in the maelstrom, the last thing that could be seen of them were their black forms, as those skeletonized, and then were nothing but dust. The army attacked, and the citizens of Del Cielo backed away from the square. Those in black that tried to escape were trapped by their own shield, Jackson pulled the dagger out of his throat and let it fall to the ground were it melted into red steel. The hostages within felt nothing, no fire, no fear, just safety, because when Jackson appeared—seemingly out of nothing, large black wings held high above his head—they knew they were safe, God had seen to it. And they felt no pity as the people who had terrorized their town for years, _years,_ the people who burned and beat and destroyed their lives, and killed and maimed and destroyed their friends and family, they felt no pity as these people died within the flames of righteousness, within God's wrath. No pity.

It was over before anyone had realized, the shield that had been there one minutes was gone the next, the flames that had melted and burned everything into a black char were gone and the hostages ran to their families, their friends, and they all cried and they cheered as Jackson emerged from the flames. His silver armor shone bright and flawless, it was as if the sun shone from within it, it was so bright. His flames were gone and instead of pure red anger in his eyes, all that could be seen was blue calming love. The crowd cheered, people cried, they knew this was the place were heaven and hell had meet to bless humans with gods loves, his creations, the demonics and the angelics, and they knew that with them, the spirituals, they would always be safe.


	12. Chapter 12

Derek drove down the forested road but couldn't keep his eyes from travelling to the prone form of his mate in the back of the truck, passed out from…overexertion? Derek didn't know what that had been, he had never seen Jackson so angry and he had never seen someone kill people, not like that anyway, Derek had felt the magic coming out of Jackson like a nuclear blast, and yet Jackson kept his skill and precision…and all to kill. Derek couldn't pretend that it didn't scare him, the ease with which Jackson was able to kill, Derek always hesitated when it came to taking a life. When his parents died in the fire, he knew it was an anti-spiritual group that had done it, he knew, because he had fallen in love with one of them, a girl with blonde hair and a dominate attitude, a girl who set fire to his home with hard eyes and a grin on her face, who he could have stopped but he'd hesitated and she hadn't and Derek still hadn't forgiven himself for it. Jackson didn't hesitate when it came to protecting the people he loved.

They finally reached the cabins and all three of them had to pull Jackson out of the car. Danny and Stiles maneuvered the wings as Derek and Scott worked to get the boy's body out. After Jackson rescued all those people from that group of killers he made them invisible again and they all ran back to the truck before people could find them, they didn't want to be hero's, they didn't want cops to ask them a million questions, they just wanted to get back to the cabins. The reason they were there to begin with was to get Jackson out of the public eye and the boy had just thrust himself back into it. Jackson passed out the instant he got in the back of the truck and they hadn't been able to wake him since, it was just like what happened when the school was attacked.

All three spirituals dragged the unconscious boy into his cabin and laid him face down on the bed. His wings flopped over the sides at different angles and gave sudden flaps and jerks. All three spirituals sighed and left the cabin to go sit out in the garden. What they witnessed was something no one had been prepared for, it was an attack on them, on what and who they were, by people who didn't care about them and wanted them dead. If they allowed themselves to think about it, they would realize how truly terrifying it was, and they knew these were the same people who were in Beacon Hills, in their homes, doing everything they could to root them out.

It was Monday evening and the sun was slowly edging west as the sky darkened and the forest around the cabins ended their daily chorus and settled into a slow lullaby of cricket chirps and owl hoots. Danny fell on the grass next to the cabin and promptly passed out, Scott sat next to Danny and looked up at Derek as if the man held all the answers, and Stiles leaned against the cabin door before going back inside and passing out in his own bed. Derek sighed and slid slowly down the side of the cabin. No one spoke they just let the tension inside their bodies release in one giant huff. When the sky fully darkened they all returned to their cabins, Derek left with a promise from Stiles to call him if Jackson seemed like he needed help.

The next morning Derek woke up bright and early, he showered and dressed quickly. Danny and Scott were tangled together on their bed and didn't seem anywhere near waking. Derek slowly walked through the forest between the cabins before he reached Jackson's. He looked in through the window and saw that the two boys were already up and eating breakfast. Stiles was talking and Jackson was listening with rapt attention, Stiles looked pained and angry, like he was trying hard to keep himself from flying into a rage or from completely falling apart. Derek waited and when they finished he knocked on the door and let himself in.

Both boys turned to him and smiled lightly, neither of them mentioned what they had been talking about and Derek didn't ask. Jackson got out of his seat and went to the small microwave and pulled out a dish piled with scrambled eggs, bacon, and sausage. They all sat together and ate in quite, Jackson and Stiles didn't continue their conversation choosing instead to shove large amounts of food into their mouths.

After breakfast Stiles actually went back to sleep, he said he was tired. Derek understood, yesterday had been…intense. But today was Tuesday, today was the day…

He asked Jackson to go on a walk with him and after the boy had showered and dressed they set off through the woods. Jackson had his wings pulled tight against him in a self-conscious gesture, he didn't know how everyone felt about what happened yesterday and it was hard for Jackson to explain it. All he knew was when he saw that man holding that child, threatening his life as if he had that right, the right to snuff out life in the name of some absent god, no, not even in the name, but as an excuse, it infuriated Jackson and his grace just burst into righteous fire. He felt no guilt, no shame, well some shame, but he knew what he did was the right thing to do and he knew that if he had the chance he would do it again. Derek threw an arm over his shoulder and pulled him close which helped ease some of Jackson unease. The angelic smiled and let one of his wings fall over the both of them, Derek wrapped his tail around Jackson's waist.

They ended up at the lake, the still waters shone bright and strong, fish could be seen beneath it's clear surface swimming erratically, it was serene and helped calm some of the tension that seemed to hang in the air like some invisible mist. Jackson and Derek sat at the edge of the lake, side by side and just looked out over the water.

"I know…yesterday…it was weird and I get it if you…don't understand or don't—"

"Jackson please, give me more credit than that. I'm not angry or weirded out…okay maybe I'm weirded it out, but I understand, you couldn't sit back and just watch, that was never a strong suit of yours."

Derek pulled Jackson close and kissed him deeply on the lips, the older man wrapped his arms around the boy and they sat and watched the small ripples that traveled through Lago Dulce as the morning sun warmed their bodies. Neither knew what to say, so neither said anything at all.

Derek had a plan, everyone else knew about it, or they at least knew parts of Derek's plan. Yesterday had been a small speed bump, and nothing had changed. Derek told Scott and Danny that they could have the cabin to themselves the last day at the lake. The two boys were excited and happy about that so they didn't ask any questions. Stiles knew that Derek had something romantic planned for Jackson and didn't feel as if he were being left out, after yesterday Stiles was grateful for a day just for himself.

Derek had actually rented three cabins, the two at the far end and one on the opposite side away from the rest. That one he'd stocked with things just for him and Jackson. Derek really wasn't sure how to _be_ romantic, but he thought he did okay. He filled the room with food and drinks, a large bed with soft sheets and a firm mattress, and a big television with a dvd player. He had other surprises scattered around and all he had to do was get Jackson into the cabin and not let him out until the next morning when they were leaving the place.

So after they'd sat at the lake Derek lured Jackson away with the promise of food. They walked back towards the cabins and when they reached the trail Derek turned to Jackson.

"Jackson…I, well I have a surprise for you…but you have to close your eyes and wait," Derek suddenly realized he was nervous, _very _nervous. Jackson looked at him with an arched eyebrow and a crooked smile but closed his eyes. Derek pulled a black handkerchief from his back pocket and tied it around Jackson's head, covering his eyes.

Derek led Jackson slowly down the path, it was slow going. Derek didn't want to cut through the underbrush between the cabins and risk having Jackson fall and hurt himself. The strangest part was the tension that seemed to build up between them, Jackson knew that this was something special, that something big was going to happen, Jackson could feel it in his wings, the strange tingle of something in the air. It made the walk to Derek's cabin a silent one. They ended up at an identical looking cabin as the others, at least from the outside. Derek unlocked the front door and slowly led Jackson inside.

Jackson could smell something sweet in the air, it was as if he were standing in the middle of a giant garden, like spring, Derek slowly untied the handkerchief and Jackson squinted as his eyes adjusted to the light. The cabin was like all the others, except this one was covered with roses, bright red blooming roses. Derek had enchanted them to glow a slight orange color, Jackson stood amazed, he couldn't believe that Derek had gone to all the trouble of trying to be romantic, he didn't know what to say.

"Derek this is…amazing. I—you didn't have to do this. I mean I would have been happy just getting some alone time with you." Jackson smiled and couldn't keep the slight pink off his cheeks.

Derek smiled back, "Well you deserve something special."

Derek pulled Jackson into the room and closed the door, step one complete.

They ended up on the bed surrounded by all the food Derek had in the fridge, Jackson thought it'd be fun to watch a movie and eat. Neither of them knew _how_ to be romantic, so neither of them knew what else to do. But, they enjoyed their time together and eating slowly transformed into feeding, and feeding transformed into wrestling. Jackson and Derek tossed and turned as each tried to push food into the others face, Derek rolled hard and pulled both of them off the bed, they landed in a pile of pastries and Derek knew that he'd landed on a cake, there was frosting squeezing out from his side and soaking his shirt with its sugar filled grease. Jackson was over him and brandished a can of whipped cream—where he got it, Derek had no idea—but soon the fluffy cream was flying in every direction. Above it all, the sounds of their laughter rang strong and clear through the thick wooden walls could be heard from outside.

Two empty cans of whipped cream later and they were back on the bed panting as they watched the movie on the television. It was a horror movie, Jackson loved horror movies, all of them, especially when the acting was bad, which made classic horror his go to for movie choice. Right now they were watching the first movie in the Evil Dead trilogy, which was one of Jackson's favorite series. But the angelic wasn't paying attention to the screen, he was staring at Derek who was still trying to catch his breath. There was whipped cream sliding down his cheek and Jackson reached out and licked it off, Derek opened his eyes and meet Jackson's who smiled cheerful, Derek pulled the boy into a kiss which quickly became a make out session. The movie played as they kissed and neither noticed when it ended and the credits rolled. They were too engrossed in each other to bother with the movie, or the food that was everywhere, or the people outside, or the town and its troubles, or the world, or everyone and everything, they didn't bother with anything at all, they had each other.

Derek rolled Jackson onto his back, his hands found the hem of Jackson's shirt and pulled it up to expose the flat of his stomach. Derek placed his palm against the warm flesh and felt the muscles beneath bunch tight. He slid his hands up to Jackson's chest and let them rest there, felt the strong heart beating frantically beneath and Derek's breath was completely taken from him. This was really happening, it wasn't some furtive dream or some fug state he'd entered, beneath him was a boy, a man, who loved him, who Derek might be able to spend the rest of his life with—it blew his mind.

"Are you okay," asked Jackson, and Derek smiled and said "Yeah, I am." And he was.

They spent the rest of the day cleaning food off of everything, between make out sessions of course, and watched Japanese horror films, some of which Derek had never even heard of and actually scared the shit out of him. The day stretched closer to night and because of the tall trees the surrounded the cabin, the inside grew much darker faster. Derek increased the enchantment on his flowers and soon orange light glowed from every corner in the room, and all around the tables and bed and from the floor were most of the flowers fell after their food fight.

As the soft glow filled the cabin Derek knew it was time.

Jackson was sitting on the edge of the bed as he waited for Derek, even he could sense the shift in mood, he knew that Derek had something to tell him and Jackson thought up a million different things that could happen, most of them were bad, he was still himself after all and therefore prone to dark thoughts. Jackson pictured Derek dumping him for the same old reason, for his family, to rebuild it with a nice demonic women and have a million kids, he pictured Derek dumping him for being a freak who couldn't control his anger and could now burst into flames, he pictured Derek telling him he was in love with Stiles and they were going away together—a nightmare Jackson kept having even though it made absolutely no sense to him. Derek kneeled in front of the younger boy and pulled the boys hands into his own, he interlocked their fingers and squeezed them tight.

"You okay," asked Derek and Jackson smiled and shook his head, but Derek could feel unease flowing through their bond.

"Jackson, the road that led us to where we are now was fast and…turbulent. But we got through it and we're stronger for it…I don't…I wished I could see into the future and tell you that everything is going to be okay. I wish that when we go back to Beacon Hills that everything would go back to normal but we both know it's not and I…I just wanted to tell you that I love you." Derek swallowed the saliva that was pooling in his mouth and took a deep breath; Jackson looked confused and ready to run so Derek soldiered on.

"I can't look into the future…but I know I want you to be in it, with me, I guess what I'm saying is that I want you to spend the rest of your life with me, I want to know if you'll do me the honor of marrying me." Derek pulled a black velvet box from one of his pockets; he opened it with shaking hands and presented Jackson with a familiar ring. It was the ring the older man had made for him, it had seemed like so long ago but it couldn't have been a more than a few weeks when Derek had first given Jackson that ring. The younger boy had taken it off after the whole Derek and Matt thing, he'd wanted to throw it away, to destroy it with all the lies Derek had told him, but he hadn't been able to. Jackson was glad he hadn't, after Derek explained what happened and dust had settled, Jackson was glad he still had the ring, but somehow he felt as if it had been tainted by Matt's scheming. Derek presented him with that ring now, except not, it was different, it meant _more,_ it was a promise, a change, a bond, a vow, it was everything and Jackson didn't know what to do.

"I—its…to…fast," were the words that left Jackson's mouth, Derek saw the way his brow creased in a painful expression, he seemed infinitely sad, and Derek felt kind of foolish, after all it had been the boy's parents who'd made him sign those contract, who'd implanted the idea, of him and Jackson together forever, into his head and Derek felt…He pulled his hand away and looked down at the piece of metal between his fingers, he then felt Jackson's own hand wrap around his arm in an iron vice.

"I didn't say no," said Jackson, he took the ring out of Derek's hand and squeezed it onto his finger faster than the demonic was able to track. Derek kneeled dumbstruck before a burst of giddiness rose from his chest and exploded out in a fit of loud laughter. He wrapped his arms around the younger boy and pulled him off the bed and into his arms.

Jackson pulled away and reached into his own pocket and pulled out a ring, it was made of dark brown wood and had veins of silver flowing throughout it, carved into the inside were thin intricate lines, a poem, it could only be read when infused with Derek's specific taint. Derek looked up at Jackson confused.

"I…I wanted to give you something in return for making me the ring, I didn't make it though, except for the poem…I wrote that, its enochian. It's made of pure grace and its enchanted to react when its mixed with your taint…I don't really…I thought it'd be...well I guess I was trying to be romantic."

Derek laughed, it was like fate or destiny or some other force was trying to seal them in an unbreakable bond. Derek extended his hand and Jackson slowly slid the ring down the demonics finger.

"I guess…we're engaged."

Stiles walked along the edge of the lake alone while thinking, he stopped and sat, and pondered, and pulled grass out in fistfuls before getting back up and continuing his walk. He was thinking about what he'd told Jackson. It was his biggest secret, something he hadn't shared with anyone, even Scott, and now that he'd said it out loud rather than just thinking about it…it seemed to make the thing a lot…realer. Jackson had reacted the way Stiles thought he would, Stiles thought the same thing himself, at least when he wasn't at his lowest, when he was strong he could push it away, when he was with his friends he could deny it completely—but Stiles could never stop believing that he was the reason his mother had died, he could never stop believing that his father blamed him because he thought the same thing.

Stiles remembered that day when he was younger, a child really, a little kid, who wanted to do nothing more than go see the tigers at the zoo. His parents had promised him that they would go, but the morning of the trip it rained, it wasn't a hard rain, it was more of a mist. His father wanted to postpone, he said that the tigers would still be there the next day. But Stiles wanted to go, bad, he threw a tantrum, he cried and begged and didn't stop and his mother had looked down at him with _so much_ affection. His parents fought then, she said a little rain wouldn't hurt anyone, he said he didn't want all of them getting sick just because the kid couldn't wait a god damn day. Stiles and his mother ended up going alone, but Stiles didn't care because he loved his mom and he was going to get to see the tigers with her.

Hours later they arrived and bought tickets, and Stiles had a huge bag of popcorn and they saw all kinds of birds, and hippos, and gorillas and Stiles couldn't believe how amazing it all was. They were happy, he and his mom, the moment was intimate and one of his best memories of her. It was strange to think of the small moment alone he got to spend with his mother, just him and her. Stiles felt guilty thinking about it sometimes, that the last moments she spent alive, she had spent with him. But his father had met her and fallen in love with her and given birth to _him_ so he deserved something…

It wasn't until they were leaving that it happened. The zoo was having a spirituals day, all spiritual children and their parents got in for free. It was why they had decided to go on that day to begin with since they couldn't afford the full price tickets. They were leaving, Stiles had a small tiger plush his mother had bought him, he clutched it against his chest when the large group outside just—there was screaming, and people were running everywhere and there was a group of people dressed in black, there was blood and crying and Stiles didn't understand what was happening.

His mother was the most powerful sorceress he knew, she could bend her grace and make it do _anything_, and she did it then. People told him that without his mother it would have been a slaughter, but Stiles sometimes wished it had been…if it meant he got to keep his mom. When the Anti-Spiritual group attacked his mother had defended those who couldn't defend themselves and gave them enough time to run away…but she had been overwhelmed and Stiles hadn't known what to do…so he ran.

Stiles had never forgotten that, running away, sometimes he wishes he'd stayed and died with his mother…sometimes. But Stiles knew it wasn't something his mother would have wanted, and sometimes Stiles swears that there had been a voice in his head, his mother begging him to do exactly that, to run. He was found later that night by the police and after several hours he'd ended up back with his father and they spent the rest of their lives thinking of that missing spot at their table, their home, their hearts, and all because Stiles had wanted to go to the zoo.

Yesterday, when Jackson had burned red and killed all those anti-spiritual people, Stiles had been reminded of his mother. Jackson was always doing that, reminding him of his mom, they were very alike and Jackson would have loved meeting her. They both fought for people who couldn't defend themselves, they both hated seeing something ugly and vulgar in the world, they both had very strict morale's and values, and Jackson, just like his mother, was great with kids, though Stiles doubted the other boy would ever admit that, or even acknowledge it .

When Jackson had fought all those people, people who had clearly stolen some poor spirituals magic—something Stiles hadn't even known was possible—Stiles had just stood there, rooted to the ground, just like with his mother he just stood back and watched and he thought he was going to watch his best friend die just like he watched his mother and again it would have all been his fault. Stiles was tired of doing nothing, of always standing by while the people around him fought and died—his father, his mother, his two best friends and literally everyone around him fought for what they believed in and he just let them and didn't help and didn't get involved and all because he was scared. He didn't even know how to use his own weapon and that would stop today. Stiles called his armor to him, a tight light armor of rainbow colors, and he pulled out his long bow, and he aimed at a tree across the lake and shot, and again, and again, until his fingers bleed, his hands ached, and his eyes burned, and he didn't stop, he wouldn't, not until he was an expert, not until he could fight like Jackson, and off in the distances he heard the unmistakable sound of an arrow digging into wood.

Scott and Danny where eating near the lake as the sun set painting the sky in oranges and yellows, the lake rippled like molten gold, and the day seemed to be settling and preparing for night. Scott had thought that a picnic would be romantic, under the setting sun and the lake at their sides, he'd made sandwiches and packed glasses and a bottle of champagne, which he didn't understand why Derek had brought, but he grabbed it anyways.

But sitting underneath a tall tree as the sun set and the lake rippled all he could think of was how awkward it all felt. Scott kept trying to be funny but Danny didn't get his jokes and most of the time whenever he brought something up like a television show or a videogame or a comic book Danny would always say that he didn't know what Scott was talking about. Danny tried making conversation as well, he tried talking about some friends he knew and their sorted sex lives—how one was having sex with the other, open relationships, the hits or misses of STD's—and Scott just didn't get how anyone could find those things interesting.

So the meal was awkward, but when Scott stopped trying to get Danny to understand what D and D was and instead asked Danny what he wanted to be when he grew up, well things changed. Danny spoke about his parents, having moved from Hawaii to Northern California to follow their dreams of owning their own business, well Danny wanted to run their shop, he had so many ideas, he wanted to help people the way his parents did. His mother was a powerful psychic who gave out very expensive readings which always came true, or so she claimed, then again no one had ever come back to say otherwise. His father was a powerful enchanter and would make good luck charms for the shop, people often bought them when his mother warned of bad luck. Scott told Danny that he never really thought about it, his mother was nurse, a regular human nurse, but she was smart and powerful and people respected her and Scott wanted that too. Scott thought that maybe he wanted to join the police force, watching his mother and Stiles' father help people his whole life had left him with the need to the same but Scott felt as if he didn't have what it took.

Scott and Danny stopped taking about the things they liked and the things the people around them did and instead talked about themselves, they're dreams, their wishes, their hopes and desires, they realized that maybe they could make their relationship work, that maybe they had more in common than they were aware of. While Derek and Jackson entered their relationship in the same throws of passion as them, the difference was that the older demonic and angelic actually talked to each other and got to know each other between the sex and the fighting and all the million different things couples go through…they just happened to have done it all faster than most people, their taint and grace had connected on some deeper level and Scott and Danny had no idea how they had done it.

Danny and Scott ended their evening walking along the lake shore until they reached a giant tree that Danny used to press Scott against and dominated the younger boy into a powerful kiss. Scott tried pushing Danny off, he wasn't used being manhandled that way, but Danny was bigger, and an amazing kisser, he let the discomfort go slowly.

What brought them out of their long make out session was a strange sound, like someone pulling a string super tight before letting it go. It was a twang that echoed far and fast, Danny pulled away from Scott and listened. The smaller boy whined, the kissing had been good, Scott was still trying to catch his breath but he hadn't wanted the kiss to end.

"Do you hear that?" asked Danny, and together they listened. The sound came again and as they waited they heard it once again. They pulled away from each other and followed the edge of the lake until they reached a grouping of trees that grew all the way to the edge of the lake. Stiles was there, he was wearing his entire set of armor, it shone in the sunlight like a prism refracting light, in his hand he held the largest bow the boys had ever seen. Stiles pulled the bow back tight, his arms shook and sweat poured down his face, finally Stiles let the string go and other two boys watched as an arrow of grace shot across the lake before dying somewhere in the middle. Stile sighed and his body sagged, he panted before lifting his bow again, pulling the string tight and firing.

Stiles was exhausted, he'd been practicing all day, his arms burned and shook weakly at his side but he forced them to cooperate. He lifted the bow and fired, over and over again, until he started to feel dizzy, until breathing became almost impossible, until he finally couldn't lift the bow anymore and he just fell face first into the lake.

He'd used too much grace, he realized it too late, he'd seen it happen to Jackson twice now and hadn't realized it what was happening to him until he felt his head splash through water. He tried moving, swimming, but he couldn't, all he could do was feel the world fall all around him until all there was, was the pounding of his blood inside his head.

Jackson was biting his lip so hard he thought he would tear into it. Derek was leaving a wet trail of saliva down from his neck, where the older man had bitten into his flesh hard enough it left it raw and red, down his torso, where he circled the boys belly button, until he reach the hem of his pants. Derek mouthed against the firm flesh he found in the jeans before stripping the boy of his pantns and underwear until he was left naked and achingly hard. Derek didn't wait, he dove down on the hard flesh, let the silky skin pass over his tongue while his hands traveled up Jackson's back to grip the base of the angelics wings, his fingers deftly sought out the oil glands and gently massaged them until they released their liquid gold. Derek sucked and Jackson moaned, the boy gripped the sheets in his hands and felt the metallic taste of blood hit his tongue, Derek tasted clean skin and something that was entirely Jackson. The glands on the boys wings oozed thin trails of oil so profusely it flowed down Derek's arms and onto his body, it heated his flesh and drove him into heady lust.

Derek pulled of the boy when he felt the flesh twitch inside his mouth, it was the first sign that the boy was about to have an orgasm and Derek didn't plan on ending the night after one single blowjob, no matter how great. Instead he gripped the boys chin and turned it so that their mouths could meet in a powerful kiss. What Derek hadn't expected was for Jackson to flip them over, Derek found himself in between a mass of pillows while Jackson straddled him. The angelic grabbed Derek's shirt and with a small motion ripped it off the demonics body. Jackson then manhandled Derek out of his jeans and soon they were both naked. Jackson's wings were stretched high and wide, he was showing off, exposing them for his mate, Derek trailed his tail up the boys back before wrapping it around his middle in a searing hot grip. Jackson's halo began to pulse as it reacted to his lust.

They kissed, rough and unforgiving, teeth clashed and tongues and bodies met in a hot press of flesh. It was too hot, for the both for the both of them, they weren't going to last long and Derek wasn't sure whether he should be doing this to begin with. Derek let a thousand little doubts and misgivings seep into his head until he was sure that maybe…they should wait. His kissing slowed down; he pulled away from the enthusiastic boy and sighed.

"What's wrong?" Panted Jackson as he tried to dive in for another kiss only to have Derek hold him back with rough hands, Derek looked confused, and maybe even a little guilty. He threw his legs over the bed and buried his head in his hands.

"Maybe…maybe we should wait until after we decide to go through with this, until after we're married, you know…to go all the way." Jackson snorted at Derek's old term, but the demonic knew that angelics were all about customs and tradition, which included waiting to have sex until _after _the wedding ceremony.

"Wait?" said Jackson with a confused look on his face, the look was quickly replaced by a wide smile, which turned into a seductive grin. Derek's eyebrows rose high into his head as Jackson said, "waiting's for virgins," and then the angelic pulled the demonic back onto the bed before straddling his hips once more and slamming their bodies together into another kiss.

That was how Derek found himself on his back again, this time Jackson had the older man's legs on his shoulders and was currently running his oil covered fingers along his crack. Jackson slowly sunk his finger inside Derek and the demonic moaned, not from pain but anticipation. Jackson had spent the last hour rubbing his oil into the demonics skin until the man was left a pile of mush on the bed, the oil seeped into his flesh until it almost burned with lust and want, it smelled like sex to Derek, and tasted like sin, the irony made him smile.

Derek had insisted on bottoming first, it was something they'd talk about long ago, while coming down from their orgasms on those nights they'd explored each other's bodies. But apparently it was time now, Jackson didn't want to wait. Why would he? Jackson was raised by demonics, he'd been having sex since he was fifteen and Jackson wasn't about to pass up a chance to have sex with someone he loved, because even he knew that this was different. Everything else had just been sex, this seemed like so much more this was _sex_. Jackson let the tip of his dick graze the puckered opening a felt a wave of electricity pass through his body. He pushed and looked down into the eyes of the demonic, of _his _demonic, _his _boyfriend, _his _husband and Jackson's mind was blown.

Derek's body tensed up as Jackson slid into him. The boys oil had made it completely painless, but Jackson was big, or at least he felt big to Derek, the older man bite his lip as he felt himself being stretched. Jackson leaned in then, pressed their bodies together as hard as he could and kissed Derek. Jackson wasn't prepared for the heat, the tightness, or the flood of emotions that coursed through the bond between his grace and Derek's taint. He couldn't move, Derek wrapped his arms around Jackson and kept him close, his tail was still wrapped tight around the boys torso, searing hot. Derek used his hands to squeeze Jackson's glands. He kept the angelic moaning that way, until the boy couldn't stand still any longer and started rolling his hips in the perfect motion, making the demonic moan back.

It was slow and lasted longer than both men wanted it too, but Jackson didn't want to go any faster, he couldn't, not without being overwhelmed. Derek could only clench the sheets as the pull of Jackson dick on his inside hit him in just the right spot and made him feel as if he were being filled up by some invisible force to the point that he was sure he was going to burst into flames. Jackson's wings kept rising higher and higher, until they loomed over Derek and cut out all other sights other than Jackson's amazing sculpted body. Derek let his hands roam the mound of muscles on display before him before Jackson started to pump faster, harder.

Derek felt the building inside him reach a peak until finally, he came. His whole body clenched as his release shot out of him coating his chest in stomach in his own come. Jackson cursed as Derek clenched around his dick and he couldn't keep his pace, his hips buckled and Jackson knew he was going to come, Derek could see the shine of Jackson's halo grow stronger and stronger until it was filling the room with blinding white light. Jackson pulled out and fisted his dick, he used his own oil to ease the way, and soon he came, all over Derek, painted him from stomach to chest before he collapsed on top of the demonic.

The night was quite after that, both men were dazed from what just happened, from what they'd just done. They both focused on that glowing spot inside them that connected their two souls, they could feel it strengthen, solidify into something permanent, timeless. Outside, nature had soaked up the grace released from Jackson's halo, new life rose from the ground until fresh flowers covered the ground in a thick carpet of rainbow colors, tree limbs grew thick and healthy leaves, nature displayed itself in its full beauty.

The men inside the cabin closed their eyes and fell into a deep sleep. Within this sleep they meet, taint touched grace, and Jackson knew he wasn't alone anymore.


	13. Chapter 13

Stiles' head throbbed along with the beat of his heart, his tongue was stuck to the roof of his mouth and his entire body was pulled into one giant cramp, every muscle ached terribly and burned like someone had poured acid onto them. And his grace, there were no other words other than it ached. Stiles didn't know how that was possible, but the grace inside him just throbbed along with the rest of his body. He wasn't used to being so aware of the power inside him, the strange presence that oozed…love…comfort? Stiles didn't like to dwell on it or think about it, he didn't know if it was because he was a hybrid, but the grace inside him sometimes scared him, and all the implications that came with having a heavenly body of power inside him. Magic usually came easily to Stiles, but he had to avoid stronger spells, he didn't like tapping deeply into his grace, he didn't like to explore that vast pool of energy. Stiles was afraid of what it was, of what it could do.

He shuffled out of bed and fumbled through the process of making a pot of coffee, he thought he mostly got it right. He landed face first back on his bed and groaned as the water in the plastic casing of the coffee maker boiled and soon he felt himself drifting back into sleep. The smell of coffee and a banging on his door was what startled him out of his daze. He lifted his heavy body off the bed and shuffled slowly to the door and unlocked it. The last two people he expected, or wanted, to see were Danny and Scott, they had a mess of food balancing on plates in their arms and both boys shoved their way into the room before letting all the food fall onto the table. They turned to Stiles in invitation and the hybrid shuffled over to the counter and served himself a giant glass of coffee, black, somehow he thought he would need it.

All three sat at the kitchen table and ate. Stiles tried hard to ignore the looks Scott kept giving Danny and the way the other boy gave them back, but after an hour of it Stiles rolled his eyes and groaned. He texted Jackson,_ 'please don't leave me alone with the two clueless love birds, their causing me actual physical pain so SOS, FIRE, whatever just SAVE ME !1" _

Stiles tried fleeing the room but he was too tired to even attempt a walk to the door let alone anywhere else. Instead, he suffered through an episode of 'Scott and Danny make googly eyes at each other'. Suffice it to say it was absolute torture, the looks, the blushing, the almost touches, the will they won't they aspect of the whole thing and Stiles was _so over it_.

The hybrid saw a book on Jackson's bed; it was the old magic book the angelic had bought in town. He read the beginning introduction of the book, it was a complicated explanation of the intricacies of magic and the ways it could be used on the battlefield. Stiles didn't understand much, what surprised him were the notes Jackson had left in the borders explaining certain passages and adding more details to others, it was kind of creepy, the idea that Jackson was secretly a genius who used his intelligence to figure out the best way to kill people.

One of the first warnings in the book was against the misuse, or exhaustion of grace or taint since it could lead to physical exhaustion and in the most extreme cases even death. Stiles really wished someone had told _him _that_…_Then again it was something teachers talked about since, like, first grade, so he had no one to blame but himself.

Stiles was saved from having to watch Scott attempt to feed Danny some strawberries when Derek burst through the door, Scott and Danny kind of flinched away from each other, Scott spilled all his food into the boys lap and onto the floo, and Stiles had to bite his lip to keep himself from laughing out loud.

"Scott, go pack your bags and load my car, take Danny with you."

Scott shot out of his seat and ran out the door, Danny sat shocked before getting up from his seat and starting to walk out the door. Derek couldn't help the smile that broke out across his face, he really liked fucking with Scott. Danny shook his head and rolled his eyes but smiled as well, he left the room at a leisurely pace and almost crashed straight into Jackson. He was surprised to find that the other boy's wings were once again hidden away on another plane of existence. Jackson smiled wide and patted him on the back before heading into his cabin and shutting the door.

They packed quickly and efficiently, Jackson carefully packed all the shit he'd bought along with all his clothes. The entire time a small almost imperceptible smile stretched across his face, Stiles couldn't help noticing how happy Jackson seemed. Derek was helping them pack and the whole thing felt…normal.

They finished packing and all met back in the parking lot to say good bye. Derek took the keys to the main office while Scott and Danny stood around impatient to get going, Stiles was sure they just wanted to be alone, it was gross how happy they seemed, really. Derek came back quickly and they said goodbye for one last time. It was kind of weird, it felt like they were moving, or that something had changed, between them, inside of them, or maybe more accurately around them. They were leaving one world and entering one they no longer belonged in, a world where people hated them and wanted them dead and Stiles, he didn't want to go back. This world was good, it was pure, and it was safe.

Scott took off with Danny in Derek's Camaro, he crawled slowly out of his parking spot and down the wooded road before disappearing around a bend, and for all it was worth disappearing completely off the face of the planet. The three spirituals looked at each other and reluctantly walked towards Jackson's truck.

"Hey where'd your wings go?" asked Stiles when he reached the passenger side door.

"They uh, disappeared while I was asleep," for a second Stiles saw as Jackson flapped his wings and revealed their dark feathers to the light. Jackson then wiggled his eyebrows and jerked his head to the left, where Derek stood facing away from them as he checked the air pressure in the tires. Jackson used his hand and did some motion that Stiles didn't understand, except he knew it was vulgar and, for reasons he didn't understand, made his face burn red. Jackson smiled a crooked grin that just screamed, _'Yeah, I got laid'_.

They piled into Jackson's truck, Derek drove, Jackson jammed his way into the center and Stiles took the passenger window seat. They slowly drove away and watched the trees whoosh past them, they saw the bright light reflected off the lake to the side and then they were on the highway, with a few hours trip to get home…and no one was looking forward to it.

The Sheriff paced in his small office, two steps to the wall, turn, two steps back, turn. In his hands he held a report sent to him from Homeland Security, it had information about the different Anti-Spiritual groups the government knew about, all the activities they were up to, and their respective key members and known locations, and still, the Sheriff wasn't sure if any of these were the ones in his town. All he knew was that he was in fact dealing with a terrorist group dead set in killing the spirituals of his city. What scared him the most were the reports coming out of the Del Cielo, there'd been attacks that took place in that town, his son was near that town, right next door a few miles away. Apparently, tensions between some unknown terrorist group and the towns inhabitants had been building for months and a few nights ago it had all boiled over, the group had even taken over the town square and were eventually stopped by some mysterious angelic whom the town now saw as a hero, as 'divine intervention', they said it proved that their towns history was correct, that they were in fact that first place angelics and demonics ever set foot in.

The attacks that had taken place there resembled the ones in Beacon Hills and yet it also had an edge of desperation to it, less coordinated and Sheriff Stilinski thought that they might be related in some way, the terrorist groups, he didn't know how, he just…felt it in his gut.

He sighed and threw the folder on his desk and it landed with a loud flop that blew other files around like dead leaves of a tree, the Sheriff dug his fingers into his eyes and massaged the fleshy balls in order to ease the headache that had been bothering him for days. His tail was swing at his side—manifested from his frustration and stress—it would occasionally give a powerful whip that cracked against anything unfortunate enough to stand in its way. He slammed his hand against one of the windows in his office and forced his taint into them, made them darken black; it ran across the glass in black tendrils that bleed out of the sills making his office look like the set of horror movie. The black blood completely covered the glass, blocking out the sunlight until his office was dark. The others in the station knew not to bother the Sheriff when he did this, unless they wanted to feel the sting of his tail across their backsides.

The Sheriff threw himself on the small leather couch in his office and sighed loudly, he felt the stress slowly ease out of his tired muscles and stinging eyes and he finally rested, it'd been too long since he'd done so. He tried to sleep but found it difficult to stop the thoughts that were rolling around in his head. But the darkness and the supple leather of the couch did their job and soon the Sheriff was asleep. The world went on without him and the day passed without much incident, at least nothing that needed the Sheriff's immediate attention.

The day outside grew as dark as the windows of his office and most people at the Police Station went home as the night crew came on. The Sheriff was shocked out of sleep when the door to his office was kicked open, then slammed against the wall, bouncing it shut once more. Someone landed right on his stomach and kicked their feet up on one of the chairs he had for guests. He heard the ruffle of bags but couldn't see who was sitting on top of him before he got a whiff of charbroiled beef and onions with barbeque sauce, he smelled fries and bacon and his mouth started watering. He slammed his hand against the wall and the darkness receded off the glass and the moon and the street lights illuminated the room enough for him to see his son sitting on top of him, he was taking giant bites out of the burger he held in his hands before grabbing a fork full of fries covered in cheese and bits of bacon and the Sheriff used his tail and stole the cartoon of fries before pouring them into his mouth.

He then used his tail to grab his son by the scruff of the neck and pushed him enough to sit up and get his son off his stomach. Stiles held up another grease covered bag which the Sheriff snatched away and opened, only to see a clear plastic case of wilted lettuce and tomatoes, he tipped the bag over and let it fall out, it land in a loud clang of plastic on the floor. The Sheriff stared at it, his son stared at it and neither of them spoke. Not until Stiles burst out laughing incredibly loud, bits of burger fell out of the side of his mouth and sauce sprayed everywhere as he waved his food around the office. The Sheriff was not amused.

Stiles pulled out another bag, the Sheriff gave his son a look, filled with annoyance and anger—but undeniable love and affection as well—he took the bag and flipped it upside down revealing the most glorious thing he had ever seen, grilled meat, roasted Portobello mushrooms, bacon, some sort of garlic pesto sauce, and delicious cheese. There were fries covered in chili cheese and the look he gave his son was so full of love it made Stiles blush, the boy thought he even saw tears in the man's eyes.

They ate in silence, there was too much food being shoveled into their mouths to allow any form of verbal speech. But the demonic father let his tail wrap around his sons shoulders and felt the tickle of ghost feathers on his sensitive skin. The Sheriff knew he was going to war, he had to, he would do anything to protect the precious little family he had left, like he couldn't back then, but he would now, he would. He would protect his damn town and everyone inside it.

Jackson unlocked the front door and stepped into his dark house. He'd called ahead to let his parents know he was coming home but unfortunately both of them were away on a business trip and wouldn't be back that entire week. Apparently, some emergency at his father's firm had him away in New York and for some reason his mother had decided to go with him. Jackson sighed as he carried all his heavy bags upstairs into his room. His parents promised him that everything was peaceful and he didn't have to worry about any reporters showing up for interviews or anything. His father and mother had used every demonic power they had to keep Jackson out of the news and it'd worked.

So he stood in his empty house with no one around and sighed loudly. Derek said he had stuff to do at home and wouldn't be able to see him until the next day. Jackson hadn't said anything but he'd really wished Derek had stayed with him. Especially now, they were engaged after all and Jackson had wanted to spend some time alone with his husband to be.

Instead, Jackson pulled open the fridge and was greeted by nothing. He sighed loudly and ordered a pizza. He ended up in his living room watching some old movie and it was hard for him not to feel like the only person on the planet, like he was completely alone in the world, that maybe Derek had snubbed him. Jackson wanted to spend time with Derek, why hadn't the demonic seen that…

The front door rang and Jackson knew it was the pizza guy, he paid and tipped and ended up back on the couch. He flipped through channels but didn't see anything that caught his attention. He finally just turned it off, grabbed a beer, and walked out into his backyard.

The moon shone high in the sky and the wind outside was kind of cold. Jackson sat on a lounge chair and watched the slow progress of stars in the sky. He closed his eyes and touched his grace and the small little lump that had attached there, the little piece of Derek's soul that latched onto his own. Jackson wanted to touch it, to delve into it and feel his love reflected back at him through Derek. But he was annoyed and angry and instead dove into his grace and became lost in it, in the heavenly presence that lived inside him, himself, his soul, the earth, the universe, everything.

Rage, fear, love, caring, need, want, loneliness, righteousness, faith, was what he felt inside him, the little pieces that made him. He wondered, when he went red, when the powers of heaven flowed into him, he wondered which one of those emotions triggered it…He wondered how it was that Derek didn't feel lonely, didn't feel the need to be with someone, with anyone, no, not with anyone with him, why didn't Derek feel the same pull to be together that Jackson felt, how could Derek ignore him, leave him for even a second, when all Jackson wanted to do was cling to the man and beg him not to leave him alone, he'd been alone too long…But Jackson was better than that, he wouldn't be alone, he would find someone, _had_ found someone, Jackson wasn't some little shit who couldn't handle his own fucking baggage, he was Jackson fucking Whittemore, angelic extraordinaire, he would show the demonic that ignoring him wasn't a good idea, he would make Derek feel the same need to be together, he would, he would make the man love him so hard it hurt.

When he came to it was morning, the sky was bright orange and cloudless. Jackson realized he was freezing; his flesh was pale and tight against his bones. He slowly lifted himself out of the chair and walked back inside. He felt…drunk, or drugged. He'd never spent some much time consumed by his own grace, it was almost frightening. He ended up in his bedroom; he wrapped himself up in his sheets and used his grace to warm his porcelain cold body. Then he slept.

Derek awoke groggy as hell. He'd spent the entire night catching up on a week's worth of emails and went to sleep still sitting in his office chair. His neck was so tense he couldn't even move, he hissed as he stretched his cramped muscles and lifted himself out of his chair. He stretched his entire body, felt the notches in his back pop, every joint popped, his muscles clenched and then relaxed blissfully.

He walked into his room and undressed, he let his clothes fall wherever and walked into his bathroom. He turned on the shower and brushed his teeth as it went from cold to hot. He lathered, shampooed, and conditioned before finally stepping out and wrapping a clean towel around his torso.

He ate breakfast and went back into his office, even though he'd stayed up most of the night he still wasn't done with his work. He spent another few hours returning emails before he went downstairs to eat. He briefly wondered where Peter was as he bite into a quickly made sandwich. He finally finished in the evening and decided to take a quick nap on the couch.

His quick nap lasted hours, and would have lasted all night if Peter hadn't accidentally sat on Derek in the dark room. Both men screamed, high pitched and frightened, Peter summoned a ball of light with one of his spells and sighed when he saw Derek who growled up at his uncle.

"Jesus Peter, what's your problem,"

"My—your sleeping on the couch in the dark and nearly scared _me_ half to death, what do you mean what's my problem?"

Both men panted and scowled at each other as they came down from their respective frights.

Peter ended up making coffee and both men sat in their kitchen as the water boiled.

"So did you end up popping the question?" Peter had an amused look on his face, as if he knew there was no way Derek's relationship with Jackson could have ended any other way.

"I did,"

"…and what did he say?"

"He said yes."

"Well then what the fuck are you doing over here?"

"I…had work to do, there were a mess of emails I had to respond to, some bills to pay, a few phone calls to send, some meetings to set up…I was busy."

"So let me get this straight…you meet a boy, a teenage boy, legal but still young, you fall in love, on first sight, and he shows some interest which leads you to push him away and tell him there's no way you two would ever get together, which leads _him_ to threaten you into a relationship, which turns you on, you two date, get to know each other, fall deeper in love, his parents kind of trick you into mating with him, though you two were getting there anyways, they write up a contract and you sign it, being so in love, you ask him to marry you and he says yes…and you spend the next day doing office work…tell me, _what the fuck is wrong with you_?"

Derek could do nothing but stare wide eyed at his uncle.

"I…completely fucked up didn't I?"

"Yeah I would say you did. Jesus Derek," Peter shook his head, "you real take the cake for complete and utter cluelessness and stupidity."

Derek grabbed his phone and dialed Jackson's number, it rang twice before heading straight to voice mail. That meant Jackson picked his phone up, saw his number and swiftly ignored his call. Derek tried again and this time it didn't even ring. He tried texting, but he couldn't stand waiting for a reply. The entire time Peter watched as Derek stupidly tried to fix the stupidest mistake ever made by a man, Derek walked from the kitchen to the living room and repeated the circuit six times before he fell on the couch.

Derek debated whether or not getting into his car and just driving to the boy's house. He couldn't resist the urge, it itched under his skin and he found himself gravitating to his car keys. He clutched them in his fist and practically ran out the door and slid into his car.

The drive was tense for reasons he didn't want to think about. He got out of his car and ran up to the dark house before bashing on the door with his fist. No one replied, he looked into the dark windows and thought that maybe no one was home...maybe. He bashed on the door harder and longer than before, this time he was sure he heard a thumping from somewhere inside the house. He waited and could see something moving through the shadows as it reached the front door. It slowly opened and Jackson's sleep mussed head popped out.

"Derek…what the hell are you doing here?"

"I…I made a mistake…"

Jackson groaned and shook his head, "Derek it's far too early for me to even try to interpret what you're trying to say."

Jackson turned to close the door but Derek jammed his foot in the jamb and squeezed his way into the house. Jackson was already climbing the stairs to his room and didn't turn when Derek slammed the door close. Derek laid his hand on the cold wood and laid a powerful protective mark on the door. He slowly climbed the stairs in the dark and felt his heart speed up as he reached his destination. Derek pushed the door of Jackson's room opened and stepped inside. The angelic sat on his bed and rubbed a hand across his face, he really did look sleepy. Derek cleared his throat, he felt that he should say something but had no idea what he could possibly say.

"So I fucked up," said Derek and Jackson instantly snorted out a laugh. "How pissed are you?"

"Pissed enough to make sure you'll regret it," was Jackson instant and remorseless response.

"Come on Jackson can we _not_ do this, I know I fucked up, I know I need to make it up to you but can you not act like a spoiled brat."

"Wow Derek, is this your apology, cause if it is you can shove it up your ass."

"Jackson I didn't mean—"

"Oh shut up yes you did," Jackson shook his head and couldn't help it if the halo that floated above his head suddenly manifested and began to dimly flash along with his anger.

"Jackson…you can't always get what you want,"

"I _always_ get what I want," said Jackson and looked straight at Derek, his husband to be, his mate, and wondered what the man expected. "This is me Derek, in all my glory, what exactly did you think was going to happen when we got married, am I not allowed to talk until you're ready and over with work? Am I supposed to keep myself company and not want anything for the rest of my life because it's apparently selfish towant anything at all, because we both know that isn't going to happen." Jackson had to stop and just stare at Derek to see if what he said was sinking in, the man looked at him but didn't speak, silence stretched between them thick and undisturbed until Jackson continued, "I don't want a lot Derek, not money or stuff or anything but god…can't we even spend some time of everyday together…is it so much to expect that you might actually want to spend some time with me…cause at the end of the day that's all I really want…to be with you."

The silence returned, this time with the million small things that went unsaid between them. Derek walked toward Jackson and pulled the boy into a tight hug. He didn't know what to say, so he just said, "I'm sorry."

They ended up curled around each other in Jackson's bed, Derek felt like he'd both won and lost a fight he hadn't known he was having. Jackson felt safe, he felt warm, something he hadn't felt since leaving Del Cielo, all he knew is that he didn't have to worry so much, Derek would be there for him from now on, and while they might have fights and misunderstandings here and there, they would be alright, Jackson believed that deep down.

Catherine walked down the aisle of an old abandoned church, her abandoned church. Her laurel wreath halo floated above her head like a sculpture made of cut glass, see through and delicate slowly spinning. She wore a deep black habit, a lock of red hair escaped from beneath the white cloth tied firmly around her head. She reflected on the strangeness of life and the almost serendipitous circumstances in which she found herself at that very moment. She thought of her plans and the ways the smallest little details could change them, for better or worse. She had made several changes to her plans already, she had to, and in the ended it hadn't ended the way she had wanted or expected, that was 'Plan B', she had one left, it shouldn't have come to it but it had. 'Plan A' should have been perfect, 'Plan B' was never supposed to be used, and 'Plan C' was pure desperation.

In front of her appeared one of her many followers, he wore all black, against his chest he wore the sign of his devotion to her and her cause. It was a small vial that held a deep red liquid, like her hair, Catherine smiled at the thought. She passed him and the giant wooden cross that was nailed above them on the rotting wall, barely hanging after years of being exposed to the outside elements, Jesus hung there covered in moss and a thick layer of dust, as if he were guarding the door to the back room, Catherine liked to think he was. She crossed herself as she passed below Jesus and through the door.

The room behind the alter was small and seemingly unimportant but inside it was something that was more important to Catherine than anything else. Hidden beneath the floor, behind a trap door made to look like the wooden floor around it, were a set of stairs that lead down into a basement, inside Catherine held her secret weapon. She peeked in and was glad of what she saw, nothing, just a dark room covered in dust and junk and nothing else, it was important it remained that way.

She stepped back out into the sanctuary, the room of worship, the first thing you looked out when stepping into the ruined church. The whole building was falling apart, the roof had caved in in most sections revealing the stars above, small shards of colored glass covered the floors, the only things left of what had once been stained glass murals of Jesus during his crucifixion, a scene played out frame by frame in Technicolor, the shards crunched beneath her feet as she paced and thought.

She walked in between the half rotting pews, some whole, others splintered into pieces. As she walked she saw small lights of bioluminescence spring to life in front of her. There were only two or three, barely glowing in the dark church. But she found her thoughts turning to fire and the power it held over her and the million ways it had changed her life. She was drawn to it, its ability to wipe out everything in its path. She yearned to be the same, to reach her goals no matter what stood in her way. Back then it had been simple, a childish itch to watch the flames travel across whatever she should set it against. But it's true what they say about people who play with fire, you inevitably get burned, and she had burned, her anger and righteousness had turned against her and burned her face away. It was during that time that she had received revelation from God, when he had given her a special gift, her secret weapon.

She could hear a low moaning coming from beneath the floor, from the back room. She would have to take care of it later. She sighed and felt as the halo that hung above her head popped out of existence, she felt as the feathers of her wings fell away until nothing was left but bone and those too faded away until nothing was left. She was…human, she sighed once more as she was finally herself. That was her biggest secret, well another of the many she had, though for the people who knew her it was no secret at all, her true form, human.

The truth was she hated spirituals, every single one of them, angelics and demoincs alike. It was why her greatest achievement and failure had all happened in one fell swoop, the night she had barred all the doors to the Hale house and watched them all burn. The fire had spread faster than she had realized, distracted as she was reveling in the shouts of pain and misery coming from those hideous demonics, she hadn't noticed the flames surrounding her until it was too late. Her only way out was through the wall of fire that surrounded her, and in her escape she'd burned away her mortal coil. She was okay with it though, she thought that as she ran from the house, through the pain and misery, she ran and thought that it didn't matter because they were dead, each and every one of them.

She was found eventually, ended up at a covenant of all places and was taken care of by the nuns who lived there. She couldn't talk and her face was burned beyond recognition. None of it mattered. Her hate for spirituals started with her father, a man who loathed every spiritual in existence, he saw them as a plight on planet earth, they were human, Gods chosen people. He gave his hate to his children, but she had taken it to heart and believed all her father's teachings. Back then the biggest family of spirituals in Beacon Hills had been the demonic Hales. And as she grew they were the people she directed all her hate at, until they met their eventual demise.

Then she heard the news, _survivors,_ it was the end of her life, she'd failed. As she drifted between consciousness and unconsciousness she dreamed and in her dreams she'd learned that if you steal the blood of a spiritual you could use it to perform low level magic. She'd used her knowledge that very night, found the spiritual women of her convent, all angelics, and tore into them to pieces with a knife. She bathe in their blood and when it fell away from her face, she rose reborn, new face, new body, new identity, and she could continue her mission.

It was easy after that, she didn't even have to change her name, _Katherine_ became Catherine and no one questioned it, of course no one would, she no longer looked like herself. Even her hair had been stained red with the blood of the spirituals she'd killed. She was brought out of her thoughts by the loud screams she heard from below, in the basement were they kept an angelic chained, they would drain its blood and put them into the vials that they wore around their necks, her followers, it allowed them to use magic, nothing like a born spiritual but enough to kill them if taken unaware. She sighed, this was her life now…it would have all been over if Derek had just died like he was supposed to. The stupid man had actually believed she'd loved him, how disgusting, a human in love with _any_ spiritual, she shuddered at the thought.

She had so much left undone but her hand had been forced. Del Cielo had been meant to be a practice run and it had been stopped by a single angelic, an entire year of planning down the drain for reasons Katherine couldn't explain, no one had been left alive with any useful information. She sighed, it didn't matter, from then on it would be war, for every person in Beacon Hills, she would be sure of that.


	14. Chapter 14

A/N: I wanted to thank anyone who's still reading this story and apologize on how long it takes me to get these chapter out. But here's the next one and really thanks for reading, I'll do my best to get these chapters out faster.

Jackson stretched his wings as far as they would go and ignored the sound of his stuff as it was pushed off his nightstand and clanged loudly on the floor. Derek tightened his arms around him and Jackson let himself be pulled back into the warm center of the bed. He didn't know what he was supposed to do with his days now that school had been cancelled. Since the attacks, parents had been meeting up every evening to discuss the situation in their small town and what to do to protect their families, cancelling school for the year was one of their solutions. It didn't matter to Jackson, he was already taking online classes and his parents were currently looking for a home tutor, which meant for the time being Jackson was being home schooled. Jackson yawned and felt Derek's tail wrap around his torso in warning, Jackson wasn't getting up until Derek was ready to get up, Jackson was perfectly fine with that, he let his head fall back onto Derek's shoulder and yawned wide.

Jackson knew there were certain things he needed to do, Del Cielo had been a huge wake up call to all the things he never noticed before, to the way he wanted his life to go and the things he had to do to make it happen. Part of it came from his burning desire to see the world exactly as he wanted. To control it and bend it the way he saw fit, for himself and no one else. He couldn't deny how horrible that sounded, but it was the way he felt and it was his goal to achieve that dream of his.

Derek let his hand trail up Jackson's back to the space where his wing joints should have been, he used a touch of taint to wrap his hands around the ephemeral joints and dug through the feathers to find the small little oil glands, he used his finger tips to trace around them and Jackson had to bite his lip to keep himself from moaning. He shrugged and Derek chuckled but stopped, too late for Jackson, he was hard, and the hot slide of Derek's tail along his torso wasn't helping either.

Jackson wasn't going to just lay back and take it. He traced the invisible tips of his feathers along Derek's body and watched as the older man shivered, Jackson smirked. The tail around his torso tightened and Jackson could hear the rolling vibrations of a growl that Derek was building up to.

They ended up rolling around on Jackson's bed, they wrestled and one tried to pin the other down while they did filthy things to them. It wasn't long before small trials of oil traced down Jackson's back; Derek pinned Jackson face down on the bed and took the chance to lick the twin trails of liquid up to their source. Jackson flapped his wings and threw Derek off, he pinned the man and grabbed Derek by the base of his tail and yanked hard, Derek's eyes rolled into the back of his head as he moaned, Jackson found his weak spot.

It didn't take Jackson long to get them naked or Derek into position, a few yanks on the man's tail and he turned to putty, Jackson grabbed his bottle of oil from the nightstand and poured a liberal amount onto his dick and slid a few fingers into Derek to grease him up.

The slide in was easy and Jackson groaned, he pulled Derek's tail and the man clenched his ass, Jackson felt the tight heat as it wrapped around his cock, it was…amazing. Jackson spread his wings and allowed their dark presence to fill the room. Derek was always astounded by how amazing Jackson looked, muscles pulled tight, wings held wide in full display to his mate, Derek soaked it in and couldn't believe that, if he did everything right, it was a view he would get for the rest of his life. They rejoiced in what Jackson saw as holy union, Derek felt it deep in his grace, the shinning loving presence that was Jackson glowing grace and it filled him.

Allison waited outside the room, she sat in an uncomfortable blue plastic chair that made her ass sore and legs tingle. She looked down the long sterile hallway and at nothing in particular, along its aisles walked nurses in multicolored scrubs and sensible shoes, along the walls were shelves and carts lined with basic supplies like gauze and alcohol pads, none of it related to her, in some deep down dark place in her mind she thought, 'I bet someone in this hospital is dying right now'.

She felt the anxiety acutely, it was like a noose that hung around her neck, not yet pulled tight, but there, waiting to cut off her air when she least expected it. Next to her sat Matt's parents, they held hands and kept a barely believable façade of calm. They sat outside of Matt's room as they waited for his treatment to end.

Matt's parents had been able to convince a doctor to drive all the way to Beacon Hills to treat their son. The person who'd shown up was an angelic with large green wings and amazing healing abilities; he was using them on Matt then. They waited outside as they heard the snap of broken bones sliding back into place and stitching back together whole and healed. Matt grunted and moaned and sometimes would even cry out, they couldn't see the tears that slid down his face, or the times where the pain was so bad it robbed him of his voice and ability to breath. But it ended quickly, after a few hours the doctor was done. He came out to tell them that everything had been a success, Matt just needed rest. He left as quickly as he came, he asked for no thanks or money, he just squeezed each of theirs hands and left.

Allison left then too; she sighed out her relief in the privacy of her own car, gripped the steering wheel tight and then started the ignition. She drove back home feeling better than she had in a long time, _'Matt would be okay' _was the one thought that dominated her mind, her guilt slowly eased out of her body until she was left exhausted but excited, she took a nap when she got home and when she awoke it was evening.

Allison hadn't realized how she'd allowed her guilt to fester inside her, even though no one blamed her, even Matt told her it hadn't been her fault. Allison didn't believe any of it though, when her car had swerved off its course and headed straight towards Matt, when she wrestled against the steering wheel and pulled it with all her strength only to have it remain motionless, it killed her a little. See, she wasn't guilty of hitting Matt, she knew that there was no way she could have fought against a spell as powerful as the one that hit her car, her guilt came from her inability to stop it, the realization that she was nothing but human, and it terrified her. She was guilty of thinking of herself, of being more worried about her own mortality, because of Matt's own, but she knew a spiritual could have stopped it, could have summoned a counter curse or anything, but she could do nothing but succumb to it.

Her dad had taught her how to fight against people who might try to hurt her, he'd taught her how to defeat someone who could use magic, he _hadn't_ taken the time to tell her how truly terrifying and powerless one felt when being confronted with a force they had no chance of stopping. Because what could she do when someone decided to use some death spell on her, she had no way of stopping it or even seeing or feeling it, what could she do, _what could she do_? The fear paralyzed her.

She could always go out and a buy a charm or two to protect her, though she wasn't entirely sure that she didn't already own some, she didn't put it past her father to sneak a few into her room and leave them strewn about. There was nothing she could do about it, literally, it was just another thing she had no control over, but being reminded of it, the whole impotent human thing, it was horrific. She sighed and decided she wanted to celebrate, forget, she called Lydia but as she opened her contacts list and scrolled down to the L's all desire to go out was squashed underneath a sudden wave of exhaustion, what she wanted more than anything was to sleep. For once in what felt like forever all she wanted to do was sleep through the night with no nightmares, without the vivid memory of losing control of her car and running Matt underneath it.

She undressed down to her underwear, unhooked her bra before tossing it into the hamper. She slid on an old camisole and tucked herself into bed and slept like the dead.

Stiles let the sweat run over his face even as it stung his eyes, he refused to blink and lose sight of his target, so he strained his arms and when he knew it was time, he let go. The arrow flew straight and true and struck the target right in its center. Stiles released the breath he'd been holding and sighed out loudly, that was one, one shot arrow, one center hit, and it took him five minutes to get it right. He sighed and pulled out another arrow and tried again.

After an hour his arms burned and his eyes strained to see anything straight, he'd been focusing too much on the center of his target, he knew that if it had been a real battle he'd be practically useless. He'd need the people he was shooting to stand still for several minutes for him to line up his shot, and even then he could only do it as long as no one else was trying to attack _him_. He sighed and wiped the sweat off his face with his palm and allowed himself to fall backwards onto the ground on the flat of his ass. He lay back and stared up at the sky and wondered why he'd waited so long to practice with his weapon. Unlike other spirituals Stiles came into his armor and weapon at a very young age, he'd been doing magic since as long as he could remember, before his mother died she had encourage it all.

He'd been agonizing over that question since he awoke that morning and it bothered him so much he decided to actually do something about it. He drove all the way to the sporting goods store and made a bee line to the hunting section. He walked around the aisles and wasn't really sure what to do or what he was looking for until he saw it hanging on the wall behind a counter. It was a compound bow, different from his own long bow but Stiles saw it as the perfect thing to practice with before moving on to his much bigger and more powerful weapon. He bought that along with a few dozen arrows and, after marveling at how easy it was all to buy, left the store and sped all the way back home where he'd been practicing for over two hours.

He had no excuses now, it didn't matter that he hadn't before, it mattered that he was now, learning how to use his weapon. He was weak before and afraid, and he still was, but he wouldn't sit idly by anymore, he'd grown up in that sense, he wanted to help, he wanted to make a difference, he wanted to be like and make his father proud...He just wished he knew how hard it would be before he started…

After resting and showering Stiles wasn't sure what to do with his time, his dad was overrun with so much work the only way for Stiles to see him was to go down to the station and even then that didn't guarantee that he would actually be able to talk to him. He couldn't call Scott if it meant having to spend time with him and Danny, he didn't want to be reminded of the way Scott had allowed him, his best friend, to drift away, to be reminded of the way Scott had set him aside for when _he _wanted to spend time with him, he didn't want to be reminded that as they grew up they also grew apart and to think that as it happened he would grow closer to Jackson of all people…it was astoundingly surreal and deeply depressing, sort of, since he actually liked spending time with Jackson now. Mostly Stiles didn't want to be reminded that at one point in time his affection towards Scott had actually turned into something like a crush, which was confusing and embarrassing and to be rejected by his best friend was worse.

Stiles just wished things could go back to the way they were before, when he and Scott would spent all their free time together, when they knew each other better than anyone else…but those days were gone, and they weren't the same people they were before and Stiles didn't think there was a way to go back to that.

Stiles sighed, he didn't know why he was feeling so emotional, he couldn't use his bow correctly, he couldn't keep his fucking friends, what _could _he do? That thought made him laugh; now he knew he was being irrational, he decided to continue practicing, it was better than doing nothing at all. He picked up his bow where it laid next to him and pulled himself up off the ground. He didn't feel like seeing anyone, especially with the mood he was in, he didn't feel like thinking, so he picked up an arrow, took a deep breath, and aimed.

The Sherriff laid on his couch staring up at the ceiling of his office and wondered how bad it would look if he just left for the day. He wouldn't do it, couldn't, he wouldn't allow himself to, but he wanted to, to just go home and forget about the terrorists in his town. He just received a call by some people whose names he hadn't bothered remembering, some agents from some agency he didn't care about telling him that they were watching the situation, which was fucking useless, they were watching_ not _helping. He needed action, people, weapons, anything and no one was offering it. He was just so tired and didn't think he could go on like he was; he would pass out from exhaustion long before that.

He felt enervation settling over him like a warm heavy blanket and found himself incapable of coming out from under it. He closed his eyes and it felt like sinking into water, the world around him seemed to disappear, sounds faded, thoughts floated away from him until he felt like his body was left behind and he floated up and into the ceiling. He went through and into the sky and below him he could see Beacon Hills. The town was quite, not much crime, nothing that needed his immediate attention, nothing that would cause anyone harm, a few driving violations, but nothing much else. He floated and watched people as they moved about, getting groceries, walking their dogs, kissing, breathing, being.

From high up it all looked so peaceful and the sheriff wondered why he was so exhausted looking after such a peaceful place. The crimes were petty, tragedies weren't very often but like anywhere still occurred, and people were for the most part friendly. No, he knew his endless days and nights of work came from his fear that at the exact moment he wasn't ready—the moment he closed his eyes to sleep, time spent watching television, catching up with his son, eating, breathing, sitting on the toilet, whatever—was the instant for something horrible to happen.

The Sherriff flew through the sky and below he could see his son firing arrows into a tree, across town he could see the Whittemore's as they arrived at their empty house, Derek Hale was eating dinner with his uncle, Scott was making out with what appeared to be another boy and the Sherriff didn't need to know anymore, he could see Jackson Whittemore somewhere in the woods as the boy practiced with his sword. He could see every person as they did whatever it was that they did all day and none of it was remotely interesting.

His body floated up and up until his town disappeared in a wash of brown and green trees. At the edge of town he could see a light, just a small bright light…He flew and when his body passed a certain altitude it came apart and divided and the Sherriff feel into a deep sleep brought on by endless hours of anxious work and choking fear.

Jackson swung his sword left and right, he felt as it cut through the air with absolutely no resistance, it weighed nothing to him, it had become an extension of his arm elongated into a deadly point that no one could hope to stop. He wondered if he could swing his sword fast enough to push all the air out of the way creating a shock wave that could hit someone at a distance, stun them, maybe even kill them, Jackson smiled to himself and started to see how much grace it would take to accomplish that, he was always getting idea for new spells he wanted to create, like the current one, most he just wrote down in a note book since some he had no idea how to start and even do.

Jackson thought back to the morning, after showering and eating Derek had gone home to finish some of his work and Jackson had decided to log into his school account and do all the work that was posted there. It ate up a few hours but Jackson didn't care, Derek texted him throughout the day, which made Jackson feel like an idiot. He knew he was the one that overreacted with Derek and now had him texting him with every detail of his god damn day.

Jackson wanted to stay connected with Derek, needed to know he was there, but he just…He felt guilty, like maybe Derek felt that Jackson was forcing him to stay in touch all day, maybe Derek resented him a bit. Jackson didn't know, maybe Derek was actually interested in knowing what Jackson was doing and making sure he was safe and Jackson was just trying to make up some fake drama because being in a relationship where things were going well was kind of scary, especially the thought of spending the rest of his life with one person, a person who would eventually see each and every one of his flaws and Jackson was sure he would fuck it up like he had everything else in his life…But that might have been the fear and anxiety talking.

He distracted himself by practicing his sword play, he used his wings and floated along the ground, he made his body weightless, he jumped around and floated and Jackson thought that maybe that was what it felt like to fight in space. When he grew bored of a single blade he split it into two and swung them left and right, relished the quite ring of the metal as it moved through empty space. It was strange to Jackson how natural it felt to him, to a hold a sword and know exactly what to do with it. In fact, it was the way he felt with most weapons he used, but his swords were what felt the best, the most natural.

His problems with Derek were none existent, he let Derek know what he needed from him and the man had understood and complied and was doing his best to meet Jackson's expectations. What Jackson had to do now was meet Derek's, though Jackson wasn't sure what the older demonic expected from a mate. Jackson guessed he would eventually find out, and strangely that thought didn't frighten him, it made him feel at ease. He smiled as he spun with blades in hand and imagined his enemies falling before him.

He grew bored quickly after that and decided to walk home. The night was quiet and the moon was bright, he'd be fine. He dared someone to try and mess with him and God's Wrath, his long sword; they wouldn't know what sliced through them until they were laying in two on the floor. He allowed his wings to manifest and stretched them to their full length; it felt great to have them out, it was like taking off his shoes after a long day of work, he sighed out his relief. He walked slowly through the trees and let the wind and branches glide through his feathers. It was a strange sensation that tingled throughout his body and left him feeling giddy. To think that he had almost missed out on being an angelic because someone out there thought he shouldn't be, maybe his biological parents...maybe not. But not of that mattered, the before, at that instant, he was as he should have been and he was happy.

As he walked he listened to the sound of his footsteps as they crunched beneath him. Dead leaves and twigs littered the floor and Jackson drudged over it, he minded the dips in the ground and the small invisible holes, twigs snapped every so often sending a ring through the woods. Jackson used his wings to better his balance and did his best to clear his mind as he walked, he didn't want to think about all the maybes and should have, would have, could haves.

He heard the sound of an owl, it hooted as it flew over him and past with a flurry of wings and feathers that fell to the ground. After, the night grew quite again, until he heard the loud rustling of a group of squirrels as they ran past him, they didn't care that Jackson was there; they ran through his legs and past him and Jackson was left creeped out. He quickened his walk and tried to ignore the sound of birds as they flew over him in giant flocks, they were unbelievably loud, the rustling of their wings hitting each other and the loud shrill cries as they pecked at each other to make space, some were even knocked out of the sky and came crashing down to the ground through the thick bushes of trees, they snapped and broke off as birds fell from the sky. The wind blew towards him just for a second and Jackson felt a sharp shiver run through his body. He didn't know why but his feather stood on end, they bristled with barely contained energy and Jackson had no idea what it meant. It left him feeling beyond nervous, he was suddenly scared, he turned and looked behind him and all he could see was the orange glow of the sun. He turned back around but the feeling never left him, something was wrong, off, and he was missing it.

Animals around him were acting weird and his feathers were tingly like some sort of angelic spider sense and he didn't know why and it terrified him. He looked up at the moon and it hit him, he turned back around and stared at the orange glow that seemed to be growing brighter and brighter. He stared and was knocked to the ground by a deer that suddenly jumped out of the bushes. Jackson hit the forest floor hard but he'd reacted fast enough to hide his wings, he laid on the ground for a second and tried to calm down his ever growing fear. He swore that he could hear….a hum, no it was a roar, like the sound of a far off crowd, or the sound of some sort of machinary. When he stood the orange glow was much closer than he last saw, he turned and started to walk faster only to stumble to the ground. That damn deer had made him twist his ankle; Jackson growled but fought through the pain and was soon on his feet again, his knuckles were scrapped and bleeding, his knees were aching and bruised but Jackson ignored it all.

He jogged faster as more animals ran past him; their fear speared him on and fanned his own fright as he started to run. It was then that the roar grew louder, it seemed to surround him, the orange glow illuminated everything as he ran without sight. The orange glow washed everything into a haze; Jackson ran and felt the air grow thin when he finally felt the heat. He turned, just for a quick glance, and saw the flames as they raced towards him. Smoke rose all around him and made him choke and wheeze. His eyes burned as he ran until he couldn't see where he was going, it was inevitable for him to run off a hill, he took one step forward and was shocked when his legs met nothing but air, he fell forward and hit the ground hard before he began to tumble. Jackson felt as his bones rattled in his body as sharp pains shot up his nerves and into his brain overloading it with pain to the point where it completely disappeared, leaving him with just a dull ache. When he hit flat land Jackson couldn't stop his body from rolling and was shocked when he felt the ice cold water as it enveloped him. He flailed and it took his brain a second before he realized what had happened. He flapped his arms and felt his body as it fought against the heavy water and was beyond relieved when his head cleared the surface. Above him the loud roar of the flames filled his ears, through the water clinging to his eyelashes Jackson saw the forest awash in orange, everything burned, nothing seems to stop it, he swore he could see it licking against the water, but that might have been his imagination. Jackson floated for a second completely unable to think of what to do when he saw a deer, it burst through the flaming trees and landed in the lake, safe, it swam near the surface as it attempted to return to land but was driven away by the flames.

Jackson wasn't sure why but it instantly triggered a memory in his head and all he could think of were his parents. He turned, but all he could see were flames, they clung to the trees like some grotesque light show and Jackson watched as the trees moaned and trembled as they were turned to ash. Jackson wouldn't be able to get out of the lake, he used his grace and sent a stream of water towards the flames and watched, shocked, as it instantly evaporated into steam. He tried again and again, sent giant waves of freezing water towards the flames and none of them touched the orange licks, they puffed into white smoke and hissed away into the sky.

Jackson spun in place trying to find something, anything that could help him, but all he saw was fire and water. He could hear the sounds of animals that weren't fast enough, they yelled and cried and the fires seemed to grow around him and Jackson swore they stretched towards him in thin arms, they snatched and waved at him and Jackson was more terrified than he had ever been in his life. The roaring of the fire filled his ears to the point where Jackson could no longer hear his own heartbeat or breathing. Smoke and steam filled the space around him and Jackson could barely see or breathe and everything around him disappeared into the orange haze. Jackson's arms and legs were burning from the strain of staying afloat in the icy water and hewas _so scared. _He swore the flames were getting closer, and it took Jackson several minutes realize that the water was getting warmer.

When he first jumped in it had been ice cold, it pimpled his skin and made him gasp when he first felt it, but at that moment it felt closer to body temperature. The water _was _getting warmer which meant the fire _was _getting closer and Jackson didn't know what to do. Jackson tried to call on his wings but in the water they refused to listen to him, it was as if the water dampened his connection to his grace…or maybe it wasn't the water. Jackson wondered if the fire was somehow blocking his connection to his grace, he wondered if something like that was possible. He closed his eyes and did his best to touch his grace, to reach into his soul, but the smoke made him choke and the roaring was so loud he couldn't think straight. He tried harder and looked inside himself for any touch of grace; it was as if the smoky haze that surrounded him was also inside him cutting him from an essential part of himself. Every moment brought something new and completely terrifying, Jackson was trapped and had no idea what to do. He desperately clawed at the place his grace should have been, he even tried reaching for the small part of Derek that had lived inside him since they had started mating and was shocked when he couldn't even find that.

The water was finally getting hotter than Jackson could stand and soon it would be boiling and it would kill him, Jackson was sure that if he didn't do something soon he would die. He tried to fly, he flapped his wings and felt nothing, he flapped them harder and harder and finally he just yelled in his desperation. He couldn't believe how the risk of death made him want to live more than he ever had in his life. He suddenly felt something on his arm, it raced through his nerves and hit his brain like nothing else, it was excruciating pain, the touch of fire that burned down into his very soul. Somehow a branch of a burning tree had fallen off and landed in lake without extinguishing, Jackson hadn't been able to see it through the smoke until he crashed into him. Jackson dunked his arm in the water and nothing happened, he flailed and felt his body sink into the murky lake. He swum up and the fire slowly spread up his arm and Jackson could do nothing but scream in pain, no one would hear him over the fire, no one would find his body, his charred bones would remain at the bottom of the lake forever.

He finally couldn't stand it any longer and he instantly started sinking in the lake, he held his breath but it didn't matter, the fire raced up his arm and Jackson could feel it spreading towards his face and finally he screamed, water filled his mouth and then his lungs and something inside Jackson snapped, he wouldn't die, not there, not where no one could find him, not while knowing that his parents and his mate were in danger. Away from the smoke Jackson finally felt his grace as it flared in power, he let his holy light shine through his eyes and when it touched the water it sent a burst of the light throughout the lake. It blessed it, sent a wave of the heavenly host throughout the water and all that was left was holy water, the fire on Jackson's arms hissed out of existence and, as if flipping a switch, Jackson felt as the water returned to its normal icy temperature.

Jackson flapped his wings and rose through the water like a missile, water shot away from him in a crashing wave and Jackson could see as it crashed against the shore and extinguished the fire that surrounded its edges. Jackson flew high into the sky and couldn't believe what he saw. Fire, everywhere, as far as he could see, Jackson stretched his hand out in front of him and pulled his grace into his open palm, beneath him the water turned and waved until it floated upward and swirled around his hand. Jackson allowed gallons of it to float above him, he used a touch of grace and blessed the water, and then the shut his palm and watched as it condensed into a small drop no bigger than a marble. Jackson tossed that small pebble over him and high into the sky. He then shot a spear of electric grace at it and watched as it exploded in a flood of light, and from it sprung a torrent of rain that drenched the entire city, and the flames below slowly hissed out of existence. Jackson turned and flew towards his house, he jetted through the sky and allowed the water to soothe his burns and his sore muscles.

His house was beneath him, Jackson could see the still smoldering remains of fires across the property. Jackson dove and before he crashed to the ground he flapped his wings and stopped his descent and extinguished any remaining flames that were left with the strong gust created by his wings. Jackson ran towards his front door and slammed into, it splintered into pieces as he stumbled into the entrance. The inside of his house was covered with smoke and Jackson coughed and could see nothing through its haze, he flapped his wings a few times and cleared the space in a few seconds. He ran upstairs and ignored the steps that splintered beneath his feet and crashed into every room and found each one empty, his anxiety increased as he searched his house. From a window he could see his parents car parked in the driveway and it made him increase his search. Finally all that was left was the basement, he pushed the door open and watched as it fell off its hinges and crumbled into dust. He climbed down that stairs which surprisingly held. When he reached the bottom he lifted his hand and summoned a ball of light to illuminate the space. What he saw…confused him. In the center of the basement, in the area Jackson had taken over as his own dark room, was a door. He walked up to it and ran his hand along the surface and was surprised by how smooth it felt, untouched by fire. He lifted his hand and rapped on the flat wood, the thing glowed bright and on its surface appeared some runes Jackson wasn't going to bother translating. The door creaked open, inside was another room, it was illumated by a crackling fire, from its orange glow Jackson could see the hard wood floors covered with plush expensive carpets, in its center was a couch pushed against one of the wall and in its center, curled up comfortably with a blanket, books, some snacks, and a few bottles of wine, were his parents. Jackson stared at them and they looked up at him and all Jackson could think was, 'huh?'

He was brought out of his thoughts by the blast of an explosion that shook his house, his parents stood and followed Jackson outside. In the rain they could see the black smoke that rose off the ground from extinguished flames.

"Hell fire," said his mom and Jackson shook his head. "Was this you?" she asked pointing up at the sky and again Jackson nodded. "Impressive, but you should get into town. I bet whatever is happening is all taking place there."

"You two should stay here," said Jackson.

"Of course, we'd be useless in a fight. We'll just go back into the panic room," his parents turned and walked back towards their house, before they descended the stairs his parents turned back around and both said, "be careful, we'll talk when you get back," they turned and descended back towards the safety of their panic room.

Jackson launched himself into the air and knew that the next place he had to go was Derek's house. He flew fast and found the place as he had his own house, smoldering with the remains of dying fires. He landed quickly and stared up at the looming house, its outside was charred black like the forest around it. Jackson walked up the black porch and touched the door. The outside was cool to the touch, Jackson swiped his hands against the surface and wiped away a stripe of soot revealing the smooth wood beneath it. Jackson knocked on the door and waited and hoped, he heard noises from within, small bumps and hushed whispers and Jackson got annoyed enough to knock louder. Finally the door burst open and a large sword was thrust into his face. Finally, Derek stepped around the door jamb and looked past his sword and into Jackson's eyes. The older man was shocked for a second before he pounced forward. Jackson was surrounded by Derek as the man held him close, tight against his chest, he sighed into the demonics neck and Jackson felt some of the tension leave his body, his parents and mate were safe. He felt cold tears slip out of his eyes as the relief coursed through him.

"Derek I—I was so scared I didn't know what to do, my house is gone but my parents are safe and I don't know what's happening but I needed to know you were safe, the forest, I—"

Derek shushed him, told him that everything would be okay. Jackson looked past Derek and he could see Peter inside the unharmed house.

"How is your house still standing," asked Jackson and Derek smiled.

"After the last time my house was burned down I swore I would never let it happen again, see me and Peter came up with a few spells that we carved into the wood of the new house. In all honesty I never thought I'd ever live to see whether they would work or not. Especially, that fire, it wasn't natural."

"No it wasn't, it was hellfire, someone summoned a wall of hellfire to burn our town down."

Derek nodded and Jackson didn't want to but, "Derek I need to go into town and see if everything is okay."

"I'll go with you," said Derek, he turned and looked at his uncle who shooed him out of the door.

Jackson gripped Derek tight in his arms and launched straight up into the air before curving his flight towards the city.

Jackson took in the site of his city and couldn't keep the feeling of disgust from building in his body. In places he could see where whole houses had burned down, probably with the inhabitants still inside. On the streets Jackson could see the blackened corpses of people who had tried to out run the fire but had instead been consumed in its heat. It was the worst thing Jackson had ever seen in his life and it filled him with so much anger he didn't know how he would survive it. But it hadn't all been bad, their town did have a large population of spirituals, most houses had runes on them similar to the ones that Derek had carved onto his own house, all the public buildings had powerful shields that the fires had no hopes of crossing, there were giant crowds of people huddled inside the police station and the mayor's office. They clung to each other out of fear, to seek comfort, most of those people probably didn't have homes any more. Below Jackson could see the Sheriff and his son as they went around groups offering healing and comfort. Jackson flew past and followed the path the flames had taken. He wanted to find the where the fires had started, but everything looked the same to him, a charred wasteland. Jackson had no idea how long it would take for Beacon Hills to return to the way it once looked. It almost seemed impossible that it had ever looked different, that it had ever been alive.

Derek pointed at a spot past what had once been a clearing in the woods. Jackson landed in the small clearing with a whoosh of dust and soot that floated upward in a choking cloud. The spot they landed in was blacker then the forest around it, things hadn't burnt here; the trees seemed to have fossilized under the intense heat, forever trapped at the moment they died. Derek and Jackson poked around; Derek used a stick to dig through all the debris and ashes.

Jackson could feel the dark energies that permeated the area, which was weird, new. As he walked around the circle, he had the strange sense that he was walking inside a current, the feeling of something clinging to his wings and body, like the small tendril touches of spider webs in the dark. He swore he could feel it on his hands could cup it and pull it towards him the way he could his own grace. Jackson knew that magic lived in the world, independent of grace or taint, just pure magic. Jackson knew that the grace inside him came from the world outside, it slowly filtered into him whenever he needed, like air, he had just never felt it, expect maybe…it didn't matter.

The energy in the circle felt…corrupt, Jackson didn't have to be an expert sorcerer to be able to tell that evil magic had been used there. Though, evil was an understatement, the energy there was…almost demonic. It had taken everything that had once been good and corrupted it into something utterly disgusting. That energy had been used to create a spell, a curse, it had summoned fire straight from the pits of hell and whoever had done it, had aimed it at the inhabitants of the town. That thought sent a shiver down Jackson's back. The idea that someone out there hated his town so much they wanted to see it scorched off the face of the planet with fires from hell, it didn't feel right, it didn't fit with the view he had of the world. He refused to let something, someone, so evil to continue to live on his planet. Jackson pulled a piece of grace into his hand and brought it to his lips and kissed it, he released the blessing into the area and hoped that it would be enough.

Derek felt it, like a blast of fresh air, or the touch of a cool breeze on a blistering day. Jackson's blessing spread through the area, rushed through the space and pushed out all the negative energy, all the bad thoughts, the sins, the deep dark stains of pain and misery that human life seemed to create, Jackson's blessing washed it all away until all that was left was the charred earth, the only scar showing that anything bad had ever been there.

Derek continued his search of the ashes, as he looked back down into the blackened dust he saw something dully shine, he reached in and pulled out a blackened knife, as he dug around he found some rope as well, he pulled on it hard until it came rushing towards him with something attached to its end. Jackson came over and together they looked at the bone that was tied to the end of the rope, a whole arm ripped of its ribcage, it still had roped of muscle and sinew attached to it. Both spirituals looked at each other and continued to dig around.

What they uncovered painted a bleak dark picture, several skeletons littered the area, some were tied, others weren't, there was no pattern to them. Jackson held each and every bone, he could tell that their bodies had been used in the creation of the spell. Jackson closed his eyes and focused on the dark energies that still clung onto the bones, from the way it felt, its texture and shape, from its—the only words Jackson could find—taste, he was able to tell that the lives of these people had been used to power the spell. Whoever had cast it had sacrificed these people and used the evil energies as catalyst in the spell, they had to, a spell that powerful would have pulled all the magic out of a spiritual and killed them along with everyone else they were trying to kill, something Jackson didn't think the person would allow, not without knowing that they had succeeded.

Derek and Jackson didn't mill around, there was nothing they could do, what was done was done. Jackson wrapped his arms around Derek and flew into the sky. They flew slowly and without speaking, what had happened had taken all the words out of them. Jackson took them back to his house. He flew over town on the way and was glad to find that everything was peaceful. Jackson curved back towards his house and was shocked at how he found it. It was pristine white like it had always been, his parents had been busy. He landed, and with Derek he walked to the front door and knocked. His mother opened the door and pulled him into a tight hug, his father was right behind her and squeezed him tight against his chest. Jackson sighed with relief as he and Derek walked into his house, untouched by everything.

As if sensing his question his mother said, "Darling, what's the point of having magic if not to protect your assets."

"I didn't think you had it in you," said Jackson, surprised by his parents power.

"Please," said his father, "this is child's play. We are demonics after all, using magic to get what we want is easy and expected." Jackson could hear Derek chuckling behind him. "This was just what me and your mother call an 'Insurance Spell', when something in your house is destroyed a duplicate is created to replace the item." Jackson nodded along impressed.

They ended up around the kitchen table with coffee and cookies, Jackson told them about what happened to him and the others told their stories. Jackson had never been so scared in his life and being back in his house as if nothing, was exhausting and confusing and thinking about all the other spirituals left without a house, it triggered something in him, something he hadn't thought he possessed or even had, his compassion.

It was how they ended up at the police station with a truck full of food. When people saw them they actually cried, they lined up and the Whittemore's, along with the Hale's, handed out food to all the people who were left homeless. The town got together as they never had before as more and more people showed up with food, blankets, kindness, friendship, togetherness, purity. If the fires had been lit to destroy their town, what it actually succeeded in doing was cementing the town together into an indestructible force of hope. And Jackson basked in its glory.


End file.
